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Life and that opposite thing

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  • Life and that opposite thing


    I said
    Don’t come wanting to harvest my garden
    My feet are swollen and hurt from the work
    I’m not finished plowing
    But you have come reaping
    It’s been so long between blossoms
    I haven’t even begun to sow
    You seem to be such a beautiful liar
    I can’t help myself
    I will die to see the fruit
    Do I really have a choice not to follow?

    You said
    I’ll take your time, you’ll see everything will be fine
    You will come to me with open eyes
    My black moons will shine
    One as the other
    Into your Blue, green skies
    No more weeping oceans with tides
    No more mirrors riddled with mystery
    Revealed at last where the man child hides
    Perfectly hung self portraits
    No more distortion of history
    Purity, certainty and nakedness
    Eternity resides

    I ask
    Will your black diamond razor sting?
    Carve the eye from my mind
    Remove the soul from my gut
    Cut me off from the rest of the pricks
    Move me to the cobweb corner
    Dissect the harness of my days
    Float me between bottom and waves
    Make me distracted
    A man that behaves
    Tell me
    Why does my end become so clear?
    All the cloudy days I’ve traveled
    So far from a bright life
    To die in this year
    Pushed and fucked and pulled
    Pimped out like a whore
    Slapped and not been paid
    For all the flesh that I’ve sold
    I can only say
    The thing that remains the same
    As I leave the outside world
    Visions unseen inside my brain
    Brilliant dull black, unexposed
    Voids and dangers unknown
    Behind the cosmetic layers of faces
    Unconscious but disturbed
    Always falling into dark places
    No child should ever suffer this madness
    To live in fear of the future
    A past full of the sadness
    Screws and glues, a man becoming undone
    Inside the prison arrives the convicted
    Never seeing the sun


  • #2
    What a lovely spew of words.
    Peeled by the obsidian knife,
    what is left but sacrifice


    • The second
      The second commented
      Editing a comment
      Yes the volcano inside has a tendency to spew mostly crap but I try Thank you

  • #3
    Love the last stanza, The Second. You drive it home with a vicious honesty that appeals to me. Raw brutality and a captivating ending.