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My theology has lead to hauntology,
A mix of deconstruction and reconstruction.
So bogged down in the suction I lose all function.
My apology for a wrong cosmology.

My head so full of ghosts that search for missing hosts.
I no longer find that I am one of their kind.
I was confined until I left that world behind.
Shattering here once all the toasts turned into boasts.

The image becomes clear, you were never here.
This is all we are, we can’t wipe clear the scar.
How so bizarre that we strove to be your memoir.
We tried very hard to hear the lost puppeteer.

We too, have become the haunted and unwanted.
Finding pieces of ourselves put upon shelves.
Search delves deeper, to be only ourselves.
No longer daunted by the fear that was flaunted.

Written by

A biracial writer, podcaster, and family man.

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