and suddenly it hits, that weight i seek to put to words - i could explain - but only find the same deficient sting. my brain becomes vulnerable to everything, trying to swallow everything in the room, the hours, the bodies that are not mine. but could i change - i want to provide the map. i don't want just the poison. i don't want just the confusion (i can't feel the right paragraphing that would help. five lines, and that clean space? freeing or damning?) i have to communicate in means that are relevant to me...i have to make a mess but my brain will not allow! i want to. i can escape the hard light... or, i am. i am the light, and that's hard.
(autumn, falling down and i didn't feel my teeth every day) i - and i won't include Try - i am one good thing. i want to be one good thing. i don't care how terrible things can be. i want to be good and bright and hope.
(staring into the plate, so big, such a mess) the problem is i am not stable. but then - the fire light! i blaze true and rasp without. sleep will rekindle.
(at the brink i find my futures) it leaves me so tired, sometimes. dizzying to look away, everything wrong, jarring.
(these people are) unfinished. madness. searing direction.
(a tree once stood there, infested, and its distance... even the tree's ghosts sleep, even she has grown.)
you patch up the world and wound yourself.
No comments:
Post a Comment