Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Violently Beautiful

Violently beautiful goes the decay set off to the wind and the rain into nothingness. Nothing,,, becoming something, each day as I wake again to yet another silent realization of the certain impediment attached permanently to the chest bone of my chamber. Pray I.... Pray I each and every relentless night for some sign of release or satisfaction that torments me in the west wing of my mind, sealed off... locked tightly with key lost and forgotten. Again the endless burning and aching pulsates beneath my skin and feverishly I fight off the urge to break vein from any who pass or comes within reach. I find myslef temporarily submersed in the sweet scents of a young muse, intoxicated in her deep blue eyes and soft sunshine hair,,, the opposite of me in all accounts and thus I'm drawn even deeper. But soon, I'm again trapped in my meloncholy grave with no use for her and cast her into the abyss of the forsaken as those who took me for the time that I allowed. . . .
. . . . And cry I softly inside myself for that somewhere more that I can never seem to rise and arrive to.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

New Years

1/1/2006

It seems that here I am once more,,
At the beginning and the end.
And I gaze upon the glow of past and future.
An odd place to be...
Wouldn't you think?
Yet here I am, and Time is an inescapable pursuer.
Ticking away, or more so slipping away.
As it unravels in front of me, apparitions of a sort of dream.
Dream... why is it that I stay in this sense?
Why can I not escape it?
Knowing it slips and yet I cannot grasp it.
Passing continuously as a stream.
I could place my foot into the water and feel it rush between my toes.
I could stand here and watch it flow on forever.
Floating by, I feel a false sense of safety.
Pretending I am safe from drowning in it
As long as I stay on shore.
Knowing well that I am convincing myself
My lungs are not already filled with water.
As I float downstream with all the others.
Floating away to be deposited into something bigger
Somewhere between here and the end.
As my last end diminishes out of sight,
I feel numb, sick and tired of endings and beginnings.
Waiting for that stop sign at the end of a road
That never ends.
No turn, no passing, no rest areas...
But eventually it will start all over again...
Another beginning...
Torturing circle.