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"My Life Is Not Your Illusion" by Mark Crisci

My Life is Not Your Illusion

Mark Crisci, SUNY Orange

Life is beautiful,

diving beneath memories

into alcoves

saturated in magical realism,

awake in a dream,

an illusion.

where time deceives truth

to betray the fiction is spins

My misconception is not yours,

though it once was,

A thirst to understand why forms this image,

And I've become so enamored by the illusion

—It must be true.

Shackled to a looming sense of foreboding,

I move forward,


with optimism and dread

of how time holds a delicate future

in fragile hands

that relentlessly spins

Jumping passed seconds,

leaping passed hours

the hands on clocks crafts moments into years,

While memories fight to preserve “a time”

Because time took so much already

It’s a strange combination

Optimism and Dread,


but it's reasonable considering how magnetic poles are entirely different,

Truly Opposing forces of nature.

Still if aligned just right,

Nature holds on with ever bit it’s their might,

Apart chaos ensues


controlled by balance,

energy drawn from opposites

Things change but I’ve staked my place,

bound to the past

I’ll weather the storms,

Tethered by a kite string

I’ll fool the storm to unknowingly leave the past behind

I've not seen one person outwit nature,

but that was their life

not mine.


I can't silence a notion that echoes

—swim in the chaos—

But we are the chaos and the illusion

the past

and future,

Untie the string or you’ll drown

when the rains fall

and water rises

and no one is there to draw

you out.


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