past the plain

a part of me wishes i could really write.
one of those good, good writers. who writes cryptic magic and
past the plain. one voluminous saturation of admired words
layered beautiful. a labyrinth of language. a real writer.
from shadowy generations. like, meaning upon existential meaning.
prose upon iambic prose. life upon beat life.

a part of me thinks i should. write myself out as
one long unsolvable word mystery hidden
from plain sight. reading first to mean less
than i mean until
the third read, when i would all mean more than
plain second sight could see.
plain eyes could read. write past the plain, and
past belief.

but i write plainly.
just to be, and to believe
that i can live exactly
what i mean. refuse what's more
so i can breathe. plain and seen.
my first read through, and honesty.
i write to teach that part of me
how to write. how to be.
nothing less than all of me.