Skip to main content

To Heal, To Dissipate Once More

The rain soaked image on the lawn has become us all. An object of despair and fleeting happiness. For what it is I don't envy much. We become victims of desire. Walk to the hilltop and make a wish. Run a marathon, walk a mile. The many secrets of our crooked smiles.

Speak in coda, the crimes of fidelity. Leaking in the image, the common presage. Reserve to preserve. She's not like you, she'll spin cobwebs from the faithful wounds your mind made many moons ago. And the memories remain, the ones that never happened or almost did. Your second life, the cover dial that made you feel old to her youthful allure. The elixir for which you could never own, never get near.

Had you the feeling of being one with nature, you would deal with healing your own sutures. The wreckage you caused, will erase over time and those will disappear in time. Emit the refracted tale of our love stories we fabricated for someone else's time. You could never make me forget my disease. I'm sorry you wished for an energy I didn't have.

To heal, to dissipate once more. What more could we want for staying like this. I feel rinsed from inside out. Never had the clout to be who I used to be. To be part of a medieval dream once more. To heal, to dissipate once more. What love once was, changes, slips away into the mists of time!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The One Who Gets In The Way

It seems blackly comical that I persist in loving you even after the time has long since past. You misreading situations from the past like time immemorial. You wanted to be queen, you wanted to have the same feeling that destroyed me as a teenager. Petty jealousies run rife with you. Now you've got someone who has the same petty jealousies you once had. I'm just the enemy who gets in the way. The feelings I believed in but was always too muted for your liking - too timid, no grandstanding acts of love and devotion. You pinpoint the negatives without looking at the reasons why. And if you did you'd twist them to suit your agenda. But then again, this time isn't your fault. You got ambushed when your guard was low and I would've worn you out with my medical provisions. It just hurts when I'm the one who gets in the way. My bitterness has always been a part of me. I've said we'll still be friends but I sometimes wonder if that's the right decision. The...

The Ruins of a Faded Life

Along the echoes, past the icy shores. Dreams of a longing going unrequited. You made your bets and came up short. Here he is, the golden child. Seeking bitterness out of the ruins of a faded life. Bowing to the music from another temple. He dreams of iconic nights in a sheen of paper dust. Watch the film roll and watch it all burn. Anxiety forms in the secret shadows, the faucet drips of a secret amnesia etching out familiar words to the former sacred mind. Disintegrating memories of compassion in a lifeless world. Business comes, business calls. Tomorrow's vendetta is last week's sense of dread. But hop in to think out for solutions in the week ahead. If death was the answer, it would have been too good. After all, how fortunate it is for me to want anything at all.

Shifting Politics of Stupidity

I felt like a wreck trying to walk to the bus. My body's in pieces and I'm told that I hope to get better. Meanwhile I fall apart. There's no sinking ships here - just empty vessels. There's no use in florid language when I describe what's really happening. Physio appointments, subjects of pain. Moments of wondering if this is real or just another example of a photogenic death. No one reads you anyway, it's all just for show. But the part that wins is the part that dies. Bone structure and muscle tightness. Linking the two together so that they become stones. The rest become like glass. Rehabilitation of destruction. Seismic shifts in disintegration. And we build our laws on shifting politics of stupidity. Hip to hip Heart to heart Who knows that we're all Just fallling apart And in these silent moments, I feel so stupid that I only wish it would end. A pill, a cream or something stronger. Tomorrow's another day. Another day to repeat the same...