Brady Stewart

August 8th, 2002 - Pontiac Michigan
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Basking, in a Way

I truly dread to go to bed in my cackeys,
Though I am immensely grateful
That an open door of surprise in the early AM
Does not expose my genitals.
I dread when my girlfriend runs from her eyes and hides in her mind,
Though I am grateful she hurts me in the kindest of ways.
I hate how my best friend sits above me in insecure omniscience,
Though I am grateful in how vastly I grow from a tensed banter.
I dread to hear my mother deny my request of absence on the telephone,
Yet I am so very grateful when her pep talks in their lack of relent raise from me myself of states so low,
So I know that everything is beautiful.
The Holocaust should never have happened,
Though I'm thankful to know the horrors of man.
9/11 is soul drowning,
But I am grateful for an aura of unity behind my family's stories.
I believe terrible things happen,
And that is terrible.
I believe terrible things also birth unto the world beauty,
Where beauty is not additive to horror,
So the sun and the void do not create gray,
But shine on half and feed on the other.
I dread blindness,
Though I may always look toward a distant light while darkened,
Though
Gratefully I may see the void
While licking up sunlight,
By radiance basked
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