Monday, November 28, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
there is a deadbolt on my tongue. the pounding of the fists of my heart can be heard echoing through the halls. my eyes are always talking and giving me away. but i will firmly deny everything under that swaying lamp. will you pull up a chair and listen to me search the dark corners of doubt in my mind? or will you interject with objections like a prosecuting attorney? will you calm my fears or send them running full-speed on a hamster wheel of catch 22s. i am my own worst bully pushing faster and faster on the merry-go-round. less merry. more dizzy spells. heart heavy from the chains wrapped round to weigh it down and keep it quiet. the belly of the beast is starved for affection. and i keep feeding it criticisms. shouting abuse at my own reflection. ashamed of my weaknesses, i have abandoned patient regard. ashamed of my mistrust i will push away harder to create the rejections i try to avoid. all subliminal mind you. all moving like a pendulum set in motion... under which i am screaming my head off wanting desperately to move. the senselessness of the distortion would be hysterically funny if it wasn't so incredibly sad. brainwashed to believe the silliest of notions like some white robed cult follower... and it's my own hands pouring the poisoned elixir in my cup.
birds eye view. sway under the weight. the winds of change are blowing but not in the direction that i expect. standing on their soap boxes preaching truth with a mouth full of lies. tattooing their creed against injustice on the same hands that will throw the blows to the innocent. the alluring mouths beneath wide pleading eyes begging for entry to your trust... that they will destroy if given the chance. does anyone fight for anything good anymore? does anyone protect beautiful things? or just glorify the cheap quick thrills that are attractive for a moment and leave you rotting from the inside out. like senseless zombies devouring each other. and it all just feels desperately lonely... hope giving way to cynicism in the middle of a dark moment... a thick darkness like in the story of the egyptian plague...
when a hand takes mine. the silent, familiar, steady hand...
everything's not lost. perspective. grace. an ear... "start from the beginning and take as long as you need..."
i will try not to sing out of key.