Disowned OR: Into The Void

Please not to dive too deep
or seize too hard, firmly or
insistently upon something
I put, which I then declare
overthrown and disowned
by mine own mind and
heart, subsequently.

I sent it, then unsent it, so
that meant it stank.

I discovered its scent
in a fuller tasting swallow
was bull shit or bird seed,
at any rate nothing to dig
a hole and drop in. Nothing
fruitful can germinate from
the disowned wooden acorn
I carved and tossed, or rolled
down some way wherein you

…stood, caught, or perhaps
stooped to examine.

When I disown something, there is
approximately zero (0) percent (0%)
chance it is "how I REALLY feel", and
zero chance it is "what I really THINK."

No, it is void. Annihilated when I disown
it, for I first fully-owned it, and only then
found it cracked, busted wide open and flying!
In a sphere of diminishing sharpnel... . .. . ..
. . . . .
. . .
.
. .

.

Feel free to claim otherwise, but
cite your basis and supporting detail.

I suspect and reckon you'll find
you staked your claim in air,
and have been hovering
there ever since like
a wily coyote,

oblivious to the long,
far,

fall

you seemingly crave.

"Meep eep!"

ERR ERR