Who it 'be'?

The left side of the right side of me leads me to question the intentions of my ‘be.’ The ‘be’, it’s the construct of my being; the result of how I am, the life I am, its true meaning.

And though I walk the world unafraid of leaving it, I take special care to craft my physical ‘be’ so that I can remain a spiritual constant to all who(m) know me.

The ‘be’ of my behind will not be left, as I right the ships long ago tossed aside by the people who care less if I live or die.

My “I” or my “eye” must see past the dangers of self-sacrament in the name of capitalism yet bellow thunderously when the giver in me is brought into question.

For no man shall ever rise above the need of “all.” We need “all.” We need “all” like we need me, you and we. . .together, not separately.

The sanctity of my sanity depends upon the malicious betrayal of selfishness. The truest essence of survival can never be fit if we do not, “work it out!”

I stand, unafraid of my future, yet there is an unknown factor within it that aims to blindside me at the precise moment I have no airbag for safety. Presently, I never forget to carry my airbags.

Yet I am safe; safely embedded in the minds and souls of a precious few who one day will tell a story of me. And it won’t be half bad; in fact, I won’t mind it being told at all. As long as it serves to grow my ‘be’ inside of the next being.

My speeches’ impediment is ignorance. For it is not that I know not what to say, but that if my receiver knows not what to hear that shall subjugate the transfer of information.

And so like racetracks, planets and history, my story goes round and round in circles looking for a home called an ear.

Please, help my thoughts find their way to a safe haven, known as your recesses. Treat each thought as its own embryo living and fighting for its first breath. . .or your first breathe of its conception. Let me ‘be.’

I am indebted.