What Are The Prerequisites Of Self Education

I burn the midnight air with questions, Thin syllables crack like bones in the dark. No teacher waits behind the door— Only the echo of my own demand. A hunger sharper than teeth, A solitude that bruises the ribs, The patience to swallow dust and ashes, To peel silence back until it bleeds. Books are stone fruits, bitter in the mouth, I crush them with my tongue until they sweeten. The mirror is merciless, It asks me what I deserve to know. Discipline is a blade I must learn to wield, Loneliness a candle flickering on my desk. I must dismantle myself to read myself, Construct a cathedral of fragments. Knowledge is marrow—devoured or lost.