There are certain phrases, and words, in the lexicon of a poet that are not always used for the best of intentions. A myriad, no, true infinite plethora of words available at any moment. Possessed phrases, possessed words, possessed to the nth degree. When the word otherwise is brought toward me, I’m reminded of the impact, of what it means for something to be otherwise. Revelations, passions burn. Poignant burn, that one is exposed to from — the inside. When the residual ache of inadequate promises ensue. It is of no consequence how hippocampus reacts with the word. Otherwise, when finally, the realization clicks in the possession, never should’ve occurred, that insanity is not brought forth by our intimate, personal selves. It is brought forth by the lunacy of the impact of others, living rent free in our mind. It’s time for an eviction of possessed phrases from a catalogue of authentic definitions that prosper in the most horrible of conditions, only to be discovered as a true orchid, able to survive the most harsh climate, whether they be intellectual or textured in weather.