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| i wanna hide, behind smoke & mirrors. peer out from behind the bangs, let it ring out in bad lighting. to move you slowly, drastically wail out to hit a chord in your heart, an unexpected low blow. shaken & still, out of place for a split sec. just enough time to share the climax, the final strum collapsing into heartache. lullaby for humanity, serenity in a stranger's song.
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| distortion, reverberating. unsettling hum & buzz. eyes crack open, hit snooze yet again. morning wood like a mummy's arms reaching out petrified, it's been a dry spell. half awake my hand leads me through the front door. follow a wet pathway under the spotlight. its a full moon, too damn early. repeats on blast, melancholy reminder of an eerie wilderness. wandering alone, headlights like cracks of light through the woods. brief glimpses of the animals, no words. the beast eye's that never again will gaze upon your reality. an imaginary sun slowly creeps up while i'm settled indoors, a cubicle where my mind's subconscious keeps reaching for the alarm. the punch in to another day. smiles & flirtation & love that I will never know. sacrifice and flashbacks to distant pain. inner self trying to claw itself out of the insanity. internal bleeding, a constant driving force where I have to dive headfirst into isolation to move on past this point. where my delusions thirst for drinks to make a believer out of me. yet i repeat myself & get the same result. time for medication. more sweat, stamina, struggle to come out free. strength to sleep at a normal hour. to forget it all. to be a hanging man.
inspired by my daily tarot card. so true its creepy "The Hanged Man Viewpoint skewed from what is normal or what others see. In limbo. Inability to move forward in life. Stuck. Need to focus on getting out of a rut and think outside of the box. Sacrifice of self. Devotion. Circumspection may be needed but remember to move forward. Indifference to attitudes and beliefs of others. A man unto himself. Ability to remain still in the face of adversity. A person who will not be moved until he is ready. " | | |
| Before the blackout she was the last thing on my mind. Funny because I wear a reminder of her around my wrist. We're driving, destination unknown. Perhaps the future. I'm sitting up front, I'm your passenger. I'm looking back but I don't have to turn far. You're already leaning forward in your seat staring at me. A warm & innocent look with a half smile on. Your trademark grin. We're both children & it's like we've known each other since birth. But this memory is something my mind has made up. An illusion I haven't had the privilege to live. And the journey seems short lived. Our mysterious chauffeur sends me to a more recent place. Tearing me from my childhood so to speak & away from your penetrating ice cool gaze. I find myself in a house that's familiar, though I've never been here before. A home to squatters & hippies in the eyes of any ignorant American. Everyone is lost in their own conversation. Greens are passed around to smoke, records are being fingered & selected. You're pacing back & forth a drink in hand. Arguing with an ex who doesn't agree with your choices. But for me it's news that couldn't make me any happier. Your request, that we move in together. Everyone has those dreams where upon waking you find yourself expecting. Like a gift you received while sleeping you're disappointed not to find waiting for you in the real world. A tease of a reality. | | |
| a detention center like an awards show. various nominees on death row awaiting their turn. a beautiful presenter. a cold mistress with a dazzling smile. screens advertise. we scoot over & offer late arrivals a place to sit. doze off watching the nearest screen blur & scramble into the distance. suddenly im with her, speaking in haste. exchanging an embrace. with a start i realize this place is forbidden. a weak excuse forms on my lips. where are my glasses? she senses distress & lures me into comfort. another blackout. im sitting up with my face being sewn on. i ask the reconstructive surgeon of dreams which seemed so real. he tells me to hold on to them. injected & at peace when i open my eyes again. this time institutionalized. i mention how effective the treatment is working. depression has lost its hold. their eyes seem knowing, as if the drug has taken my mind. they implant their device. they wish to monitor the real world. i havent once seen my face. the needle meets my arm again. i rise for work. happy that i went to sleep so early & dreamt of another place and time. | | |
| I stumble upon a website loaded with her private videos. My curiosity gets the better of me & I click the first link. A random clip of her with boyfriend & sister. The setting seems ordinary for the most unusual thing. A kitchen, the type you see in a restaurant behind the scenes. There's a water fight that breaks out while doing dishes. She's playing around completely naked. I know that I'm not supposed to watch this but I can't get myself to turn away. It's odd how casual she is while her loved ones remain clothed. She's still as stunning as I remember her. Her silky skin a landscape to that charming goofy smile. The infectious laughter that rings out from her joy has me questioning the nature of the nightmare. | | |
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