You

Rejected—-

Is a very beautiful word,

It meanders somewhere along your hippocampus

And your sight

To Carry it,

When you look at your reflection

That you don’t even own

In the mirror,

it can crack and

remake cartilage,

And it smashes your bones,

The ligaments and the tissue,

The very atoms of You,

But carries a new

DNA structure in between the grating tone,

To recreate YOU,

For THEM,

And that’s very beautiful, isn’t it?

I can change it,

The definition

Of beautiful

If I want.

Because I can still use

The old cracked

Bones

And somewhere

Meandering

Within my hippocampus,

I can pick out the parts

I reject (you reject)

And it’ll be

Beautiful,

And truly,

I’ll remake

That tissue

And remake

The feeling

And the words

To finally see

How well you finally

Remade

That mixed up pile of

Cracked up

Rejection.

It’s beautiful

I know,

You see

The parts of yourself

You reject,

You put them on me,

And they become us,

And that’s beautiful,

But like dead leaves,

I realized that

They’ll be fine on the ground

Rejected by the tree;

They will become a part of the earth,

and become something new.

So I pick up

My tired old bones,

Cracked but not broken,

And pick up a old dead leaf,

Heading

Toward

The new

Beautiful horizon,

The word rejection

Never again

In my

Vocabulary.