Poems themselves are structured so as

To remove the virtue of open mind

I’ve always found myself forcing something

Into their rigid structure. But we know no better

Way. Writing in word processors puts an intermediary

Between you and the written word, stifling creativity?

From days when I didn’t know the sun came up

To nights when I wished it never went down

I forged my bitterness into desperate hope,

Clinging to her hand like my last foothold on a

Scalding cliff. You know, I barely ever proofread

The poetry I’ve written. I haven’t wanted to.

Then I learned that Bertrand Russell was right

Doing good did not bring happiness, happiness

Brought doing good. In college I found my muse,

Every glance a salvation. I found my happiness,

Every word a revelation. Science holds hands like

No other, and never lets go. (She rocks in bed.)

I’m diving into science, but not too deeply

For I’ve learned the danger of holding too tight.

I’m diving into poetry, I’m diving into Valarie.

(but most of all, I’m diving into myself.)

Then I realized, you should impose structure;

Structure shouldn’t impose you. I fear

I feared Spectres from my past

For when my dæmon settled she

Was all the more to lose. But then

I remembered that I knew their weakness,

That life led in fear is life led only partially.

This seems as appropriate a time as any

To write a poem entitled “Deliverance”

Because I’ve defeated the greatest enemy

Of all (oneself) and in defeat comes victory.

I realize I’m becoming myself more than

Anyone has ever done before, and that

There is no such thing as unbeatable depression.