I live my life through the words I write
Riding through the waves of the day
from high to low
and only a short while on the even.
From good to bad
and mediocre
several trips per day
makes for an aching vessel
when the finish line arrives.
Every day
the map fuzzy, unclear,
uncertainty
of sharp corners and rolling hills
remains a certainty.
Every day.
My memory is a peculiar thing
taunting me with the past,
focusing on loss, heartbreak and anguish
than those moments of acceptance and joy
in stark contrast.
The more I remember, the less I remember.
Memory skews the reality of what
once was, of truth.
It must view this as a game,
how far can we deviate from reality
and still make her believe,
and build her future based on these?
When memories are distorted into a
new, thwarted figure
what do I have left?
What can I believe in? Lean on?
The more I remember, the less I want to
remember.
There it is.
I thought I had lost it
let it fall through my fingers
all the while watching
it fall.
At the last moment
with focus re-tuned
reaching, grasping,
I caught it.
There it is.
Heat growing, building,
turning a darker, deeper shade of red
with each passing minute.
Transferring,
separating particles from each other.
Expanding,
until there is nowhere else
for the steam to go
but up
and out.
Eventually
the same will happen to me
as it has before.
With no where to go
but up, and out,
my lid will rattle
and bounce around
making music.
Fight me.
I need you to fight me.
Bulldoze down my walls,
tell me how I’m wrong and
show me how I’m wrong
stab me with the truth,
make sure I have a long way to fall.
I need that
a strong slap in the face
a bucket of cold water over my head
a violent shake for me to leave my head
and see the reality from your view.
Unleash on me
whatever method necessary
to penetrate my thick skull
remove the rotting roots
and plant a new seed.
Fight me.
Dawning Words 