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.
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.
Jack-o-lantern grin on a soil soaked face brings a gleam to the eye, sickly off color oceans sweetened with flint surrounding coals sunk deep, always to be diamonds forever unpressed.
Invert your beliefs despite all the tears, blessed by devils to love gruesomely wishful, they call themselves angels sent from above though their stories are fake always spinning tales out of mud.
Shackle that spirit into iron bound blocks, wither your freedom away until it sounds desperately weak with a voice that falls empty on stunted ears and emotions no longer caring, and even pretending.
Blaspheme your values and lay in a trough, where the swine plunder for pleasure dig deep in the mire suckle like beasts on that sick, sweet, distortion, all while minding the cross.
Dangling promises to release your mind, kept partial and broken sentenced to time after time, words carefully chosen to leave you feeling less than divine.
Where the road crosses and breaks in the dark, trails leading past peaceful places handily strewn with spent dreams, delusions of grandeur and half glimpses of faces, all of them wasted, missed chances for safety.
Memories and hopes on the battlefield lost, reclaimed to a tune that warmed off the frost. Singing songs of cast rays from the sun way out there, rainbows breaking on storm’s end embracing adventure, barking laughter, always finding the fun.
Limp and crumpled between all the worlds, a traveler beneath the weight of mental fissures deeply cracking out way beyond where he started his feet land where he was hurled. Giants lurk out there in a mezzanine layer, reality is a sure thing until fact and fiction are swirled.
Rise up and break down those glassy illusions, smash down the oppression (he thinks to himself) that would handily break you under flurried confusion. There’s a joy to be found and happiness born, love to be shared, thoughts to think, great lessons to be learned.
Memories hurt like jagged rocks in the side, but you’ll never go back, forward though not always straight, no matter the rivers rush or how frightening the ride. Loss can stain clothing, grief stain cheeks, but the future is brighter ahead then behind.
Jack-o-lantern grin on a soil soaked face, in mercy you’ll be pulled from the gates, yanked back out of the chaos and dusted off sharply, lips with compassion and renewed desire, lay on you words of beauty and a kiss to inspire.
You’re insides are gone, replaced with a flame, one beautiful fire, let that light be your name.
Wiggling brain worms of love cross each other on withering paths, laying out siege plans and more, demanding the mind bow and be labeled a whore. Tussling tatters of titrated remains, their infection spreads softly but fierce is the pain. When all is lost to the annals of memory (that malleable stuff made of thoughts stuck in entropy), we’ll know not the beginning, seek to suss out the end. But by that point the parasites will be dug in, they’ve rewired the hardware, unfucked the program and rewritten the codes. Their beautifully at odds with all we call real, if God were a worm I might be filled with more zeal. A zest for the unknown where dreams can take flight, even a place to call home in the bitterest of nights. But, here I sit. Obliterated identity left off as a stain to be cleaned by the new host who’d prefer I be insane.
Despite every frothing nuanced prayer that initializes my psyche, the distorted grimace of broken promises and lost understanding, perched atop a wistful hallucination, a misted and cloaked recollection of the past run doggedly down by the present pretense.
If ever there was something akin more to the listless and forgiving welcome end of the fight with the embittered arrogance of senses beguiled by a world at odds with the wasted conviction that drives each of us to draw determined store each day.
I don’t want to see that shit.
It’s going to remain a figment of some darker god’s plaything.
Poor darlings chained up until the scent of dread and hate and playful desperation and longing and weakness and fear cum resignation. Soaks the fingers loose from greased clasp on steel.
Fucking breaking would be the sweetest of releases.
To find forgiveness in deceit , blunder through fields of denial, laden and swollen deep with the putrid rage at self and world.
Just take one more day beautiful.
Please.
I’m begging through this weakness and shame of my indignant mistrust.
Please.
Please show me I’m crazy enough that I won’t die in my hate lust that these fears have spawned.
I’ll be your puppy faced joker.
Your sterile cat of misapprehension.
Feed me your sin to mirror mine and kiss these wounds to sew them shut against a clot of your mercy. The sheen was lost so long ago and hasn’t been a clean reflection since you woke me to a world of normalcy bathed in the crackled genius of the wounded.
To Ink - a blog from Melting Neurons 