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Pieces of a heart barely held together
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Bank down, dear softly lit embers glowing behind my eyelids, anger burns us all, its well aimed at its internal target, crackling emotions that yearn to release into the still night air. We're to blame.
You've enbibbed enough to linger longer than advised in those dark places we bury deep.. soul fluttering, awakening, remembering echos of a distant self, a self we thought we knew, a self that had some moxy...some zesty appeal, a sense of direction, thats gone now. She's gone now.
Slumbers coming... a solid black wall approachs on the horizon...heavy falls the curtain that hides our secrets and drips liquidy lies from our lips. Lies of comfort. I'm not who you think I am. Who I thought I was. I'm not here anymore. Stop fighting this... do we want to feel this burn. this anguish.. this mental scarring. Fuck it... feel it... feel it all. After all we deserve it... its our doing.
Best we scurry on to safer self reflection, the quicksand deepens here the chasm widens tearing at the last shreds of self respect, its deep here... its real deep, in honest recollection, in real reflection the confrontation leaves no winner... were slipping....we know that we are prone to this destructive siren call. We'll crash on the rocks tonight... Sinking. Sinking...are we afraid of it? Are we hoping it eats us alive? Regret darkens the room.
The temptation to sink into its endless abyss, to be swallowed up and never emerge from our own windswept brain storm ripping through past memories like a cyclone of devastating truths beating down on us.. reminding us of how wretchedly flawed our honor and intentions can be ..have been.. the glass in my trembling hand slips to the floor, amber fluid pours forth, lost to it, the comfort of the burning warmth it once held. Seeping into the rug, a cold stain now... like the shivery ice aura now shrouding my semi-conscious state...
My fires out, ash settles over my salty tear tracks, the ash of day old mascara smeared around sad glassy eyes, a pathetic picture of a spent spirit, curled around this puddle with feelings of shame.
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200731
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