it would be so nice if something made sense for a change.

Friday, November 4, 2011

impulse.

impulse.
living here, dying here.
look up to the sky.
stars.
wondering who we are.

feel a presence.
searching for words.
feel you near me.
inside me.
clawing your way out.
get out.

papercuts on my brain.
claw-marks on my arms.
cat-scratch scars on my stomach.

spinning sinister vortex.
black holes & ancient seas.
whirlpools of destruction.
drowning me out.

drowning in my ocean
of laughter, tears, & song
long-forgotten melodies
humming, ringing in my ears.

tension never letting up.
pressure still upon me.
the weight of the world
crashing waves on the shores of my mind
crushing me, compacting me
into a tiny piece of shattered glass.

the moon a spotlight on my memory.
a blemish on my utopian society.
fuming clouds roll & thunder
acid rain comes tumbling down
suffocating my ozone layer.

save me from myself.
from my lack of concern.
for those with no cares
are reckless
& those who are reckless
are dangers to themselves.

collapse from exhaustion
emotional strain
cut to make sure i still bleed
red & heavy
make sure i still breathe
feel pain.

desperately clinging
to old habits
security blankets
i wear a tattoo of a broken heart on my shoulder.

latching on like a leech
sucking the life from you
drinking rainbows
waiting for the color to sink in.

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