Cantankerous, walloping headache from hell, comes driven on words sweeping born from the fell. If now is the darkness that blocks out the curs, then drive, devil, drive to blot our their slurs. With skull thrashing and blood pumping so loud, it’s hard to think with the internal noise like a crowd- mocking, bantering, shuttling words, as feet shuffle and wisdom flies off with the birds. Never knowing from whence it was born, scratching echoes from those blissful days we all yearn. Pandering blasphemous gasps for sweet air come at last, now that the sound stops and you care for what has come, gone, and now passed.
Tremble, baby, tremble, come gnattering at my door, the last I heard the story told I found myself the whore. Through dancing devils and despair, where rainclouds covered black, we’ll smoke these cigarettes this eve talk only of the facts. While vapor mists exfoliate, come wrapping round my lungs, tell me, oh, my dearest one, from where do nightmares come? In that lingering silence, where faces seek to fade, electric will the tension sit, my question on display. Clever feelings will run loose till they gather heads of steam, together waiting for the rush to burst rip loose like Satan’s scream. Forever tick the seconds, into idly running dust, I know not why the torment, but darling, dearest, I just must. Sincerity is cleanliness, stops putrid stains from spread, but Botticelli had more words from his canvases so dead. Stoke the embers of your heart, go on, let the pyre burn, never is a long time from now and it currently is your turn.
Play often with the boundaries inside you head before they harden into labyrinthine walls. Doubt the truth of what you know dear one, for nothing is ever so simple as it may seem. When the philosopher writes such common tongue as “I think therefore I am,” dig deeper into understanding what is meant. Uncoil the beauty of knowledge shared and questions expanded. That uncomfortable pressure inside your brain is nothing more than the price of admission to a world of creative and well intended information, each and every bit, a treasure in its own way.
Hallowed evening moonlit sky lost direction asking why mindless choices numbing thoughts careless actions hurtful shots taking aim bitter words lifeless eyes broken heard all consuming voided – gone checks cashed runaway mom take back decisions made better life absent shade too late change past future hopes dreams last action counts words fly desperate times for you and I.
Dirge on a river winds lifting up a hymn. Philosophical pondering seeking solace on a whim. Asking questions with no voice the thoughts come like a sparrow, cautionary tales spread far and wide when all our lives are narrowed. Dancing in the moment dusk turns into night, leave behind the mortal coil, set gaze and erupt in flight.
Pen me a story all pelted with pain– I’ll send you a memory quite completely insane. Pen me a story all covered in scars– I’ll whisper you love underneath the stars. Pen me a story all wrapped up in joy– I’ll rip off the paper and play with your emotional toys. Pen me a story all soaked in ambition– I’ll congratulate you from a distance and hope for fruition. Pen me a story all righteously proud– I’ll admiringly stand and clap just as loud. Pen me a story devoid of suffering or shame– I’ll question how long you lived and whether you played the game. Pen me a story short on words but big on feel– I’ll embrace your passion that fills me with zeal.
For each story you write and each tale that you tell, connection is made as we all walk this road of life to the final farewell. Strangers no more as the wording unfolds, your experiences are more valuable then ever would be gold. Friend since you vulnerably shared to cross the divide, forever you’ll find my acceptance as I stand by your side. We all start alone until our experiences happen, no one need stand lonely feelings that they’re trapped in. A world without others who have felt all the same– if you’re missing companionship then drop any shame. Drop any pretense or false facing thoughts– your loveable for you, now and until time itself stops.
Outside the borders of this unquiet mind, sit eons of wisdom woven as invisible mesh most fine. Alone sits Arachnae, that fate wielding bug, completely immersed playing God string by string, thud by thud. We’d settle for reality if only for thinner air, know what’s happening, get right-sized and repaired. But truth hangs us all, the devoted or mellow. Chokes down in the craw, suffocating like an ungenerous fellow. So let’s sit side by side, have a novel discourse. Talk free will or destiny, while the galactic spider calls for a hearse.