Kit for Kat

The words so simple to place upon the page never came to my lips when I needed them most.  Such a simple thing, this place, to render new worlds with the stroke of a key, yet in the embrace of beauty the mind recoils to a primitive state; words becoming shorter, emitted in grunts and senseless phrases.

It should have been so easy, to work poetry within your ear, telling you of all the things I wanted; spinning words into reality with golden tongue.  Alas, the ape screamed out and only the vilest nature of man met your ears, and in such … you laughed.

This place, so simple yet complex is the only place where I am truly free when in your presence.  Tis strange for one such as me, who never had such issues before; quick tongue and complex thought never had so many issues becoming sound, yet there was nothing I could do.

I was lost within flesh within the thought of salvation deep within.  A salvation torn asunder by crippled words and false starts.

In this world, even this forlorn creature can be God.  In this world, he can be free of the ape within and coalesce thought into complex thought without hang-up or trepidation.

Most days, this is the only world I have left.

 

There she was before me, nervous and beautiful.  She had come to my room to see me, yet, she had also come to give in to a lust which had been building up for many months.  Just at a glance, she could almost feel his touch upon her skin and she shivered.

He invited her in with a smile and quickly wrapped his arms around her.  He smelled good but she couldn't place the cologne.  It didn't matter though, it was just one more thing added to the flush of thoughts flying through her at that exact moment.

He kissed her gently upon the forehead and whispered softly in her ear a single phrase.

"Do you submit?"

She sighed and nodded, no words able to escape her lips at that moment.  He only smiled and told her she was a good girl.

"I want you to go into the bathroom and take off all of your cloths.  Set the shower to a comfortable temperature, turn the light off and get in.  I will join you in a few minutes."

Nervous but committed to her oath, she did as she was told.  Standing there in the darkness, the water flowing down her body she could only imagine what he had planned when he came in.

The door opened.

"I want you to stand with your hands against the back wall, back to the water.  No matter what, your hands are not to leave that wall.  Do you understand?"

"Ye...yes," she softly said.

She could hear him get into the shower, the sound of the water splashing off of his body and onto hers.  For a few moments, there was nothing at all, but then the feel of a cloth upon her back brought her back into the moment.

Starting at her shoulders and working his way slowly down, he slowly rubbed the soapy cloth about her flesh.

"All that was before is gone.  Upon this night, you are new and void of all the things that have haunted you."

He was careful but methodical.  Leaving only the most sacred of places untouched.

"Turn around and lean your back against the wall."

Nervous that this would be his first look at her like this, she had forgotten the lights were off and he could see nothing just like she couldn't.

He continued to wash her body from shoulder to feet, whispering words which made her think of spring and new growth.  Her mind drifted while he worked, and too soon, he stopped.

"Ok my dear, I am going to step to the back.  I want you to rinse off, then get out of the shower, grab a towel and dry off.  Once dry, I want you to go into the room and lay beneath the first sheet on the bed, face down."

She did as she was told, and shortly after crawling into the bed she heard the shower turn off.
He entered the room a few short minutes later and she could hear him open a drawer before feeling him climb upon the bed with her.  He didn't hesitate to crawl over her covered form, one knee on either side, resting his weight upon the back of her thighs.

The sheet was pulled down and folded neatly, exposing her back down to her lower back.
"For new growth, the flesh must be stimulated properly."

The feel of his hands upon her skin, soft and silky due to oil.  He slowly rubbed it into her flesh, covering every inch over and over again.

She was melting.

His weight shifted off of her and the sheet was pulled off her body completely.  He shifted his efforts to her feet, calves and things.  Careful not to cross the threshold.

"With your eyes closed, I want you to turn over."

Without thought, she complied with his instructions, and now, naked before him, not even a single thought of being self conscious crossed her mind.

He began again.

Her legs and hips ... her stomach and sides.

He was careful, very careful.

His hands moved up the sides of her breasts but not onto them.  They slid carefully between them, but still never touching the soft flesh she craved he would.

Her neck ... her temples ... her lips.  The scent of lavender overwhelmed her.

"You are anointed.  You are new..."

He bent forward and gently kissed her forehead.

"...and you are mine."

His lips found her own kissing deeply.  His fingers her nipple, pinching.  His hand her sacred heat ... her body exploded.

Time stopped and started again.  Moments of clarity broken by animal cries.  Somehow, he was inside of her but she doesn’t remember when, only that it felt amazing so deep inside of her.

"You must cum my Queen.  Cum for me and know that your rebirth is complete.  Cum for me and scream my name.  Cum for me and swear that you are mine forever."

Her body reacted, changing the angle of his intrusion and forcing it along her clit by arching her back over and over again.  He tensed...and released, exploding deep inside of her.  His cum filling the deepest parts of her body.

Her body responded in kind to his own and a wave of pure ecstasy washed through her very soul over and over again.  She screamed his name; screamed that she was his forever.  Screamed so many other things but they were in ancient tongues not heard by man in a thousand years.  She screamed, and then fell exhausted to the sheets beneath her.

They lay there as one, forever and then...

These words are pure, unaltered and uncensored.  They whisper softly across your skin and find shelter deep within your subconscious.  A dream, soft and gentile; harsh and demanding; forcing submission with every vowel, yet tender by nature ... you must submit.

Aching tender prostrations, slipping down through the folds of your very being, touching your most sacred treasures without even being there.

These words, true and surreal, are but a moment in time.  Subliminal attunement of longing souls, begging for loving touch; your hands holding me tightly in silence.

Painful solace growing within; moments of elation behind closed doors; your submission complete.  Deep within I shall whisper nothing so profound as this, yet, profound it shall be within your mind; for perfection that never was shall be; just as we shall be one within that same moment.

Your ache, swelling with greater want shall call, louder still than any sound brought forth before.  Know I shall sate thy needs, one at a time until in the end, only elation remains.

Soft and loving; slow and caring yet not always shall these things be true ... for pushed up against the wall you shall be ... clothing twisted in knots around your ankles; bent over and taken.  Lust sated in frenzy.

Risk

Cogs in a machine

We work we toil we bleed

Yet times we remember

When we were once alive

Humans with feelings

Pleasure and pain

Diluted by duty               
enforced by tradition

Yet humans we are

Locked up and broken

Waiting for the moment of our escape.

We still remember

What it was like

To breathe beneath the open sky

Free of duty, toil and trouble

Temptation gleaming in our eye

So this cog dreams

Dreams while bleeding

Hoping for a moments peace

Yet rarely peace doth ever come

Thus the machine moves ever forward.

 

A risk
pure and true

Taken in the dead of night

The machine moves on none the wiser

Humans escape, embrace and entwine

Soft sounds escape their lips

Ecstasy in the dead of night

We are human, we are free.

Cogs by day, flesh by night

Your traditions can not hold me
the taste of flesh upon my lips

A smile that shall console me

Cogs in the machine

This fact remains

Yet that moment yet controls me

I remember when I was alive

When traditions did not hold me

walls

I’m surrounded by so many lies
endless cycles that never die

No trust

No trust

Surrounded by walls

Metal walls and endless halls

No escape from this world that is around me

Pointless endeavors

Always surround me

A waking world that seem so pointless

Yet I try, and though it seems hopeless

I’ll walk those halls until its completion

Feeling like a drone

I’ll fill those walls with much jubilation

The day that I go home.

 

Last night, I spent hours gazing upon the water and thinking about all of the things I’ve managed to destroy in my life.  I thought about how, going into this new future, I honestly have no idea if I’ll be able to keep it together; to stay on track.  There, upon the water, in fleeting form and motion, they were there atop the waves.  Dashing to and fro they hid on tattered crests, diving and swirling just beneath the surface.  They were the shadows of my creation, the shadows of my damnation, the shadows of my insanity.  They were gibbering with unseen mouths and reaching with claws made from the most corrupt and foul energy of this world.

I watched them, and I was unafraid.  I wanted them to take me.

 

wraiths

The wraiths gather with growing hunger in my peripheral vision, cackling with glee as the shadows grow stronger, moving closer toward the center of my being; consuming all they touch.  The false light of hope which brought me a few days peace is fading, dragging me once again into the grey which is my true reality.  I feel it coming, but it has not settled back into my bones, for hope is not gone, only diminished.  Yet, even knowing this, I repeatedly place myself in this situation; for some light is better than nothing; yet nothing is what I see when I gaze upon my reflection.

 

in a nutshell

Growing up, I kind of had the best and worst of both worlds.

 

The neighborhood I lived in was tucked into a wooded corner on the very edge of a mid-sized city.  In such, I got to play and explore in the woods all the time when I wasn’t at school, but, being a small neighborhood, there weren’t really any kids my age to hang around with.  This was both a blessing and a curse as the years went by, and eventually I attached myself to an older guy who had moved from the other side of the county.  That is a different story though, and one I will tell later.

 

Since I was so far away from the schools for the city I actually lived in, they sent all the kids in my neighborhood to Pontiac schools (the city next to us).  Pontiac is an industrial town (cars) and has a big mix of people living there.  All was good until I got into the high school, but that’s when things really started to get ugly.  There was a lot of gang activity, violence and stupidity.  Very few people were there for the education.  Although I didn’t get caught up in the gangs, I did fall into shit that really changed how I viewed the world around me.  Much of it having to do with that guy back in my neighborhood and his influence on who I was.  I didn’t really care about school to much, although I kept going because I had to.

 

On the last day of my 10th grade year two buddies and I were jumped while waiting for the bus because we were white long-hairs.  We got off pretty lucky, but it left a pretty bad taste in my mouth and I refused to step foot in that school again the following year.  In such, I transferred to another school district, attending an alternate high school.  There I got my GPA up and stayed out of trouble the best I could.  I was one of their top students, but mainly because I was one of the only people there that hadn’t been kicked out of the local school’s for being a disciplinary problem.  It took a year and a half, but I ended up completing every single class they could give me that was at my level or above and had to find a different school.

 

I found myself taking night classes in what was then my 3rd school district.  Four nights a week, four hours a night, one class each night.  The shit was truly a joke.  After the first semester I was only one class short of graduation (which caused me to graduate one semester late than what I originally should have but that was fine.  After screwing off for two years in my first high school, a single semester wasn’t bad imo).  I took a drawing and sketching class my first semester there, and then the second semester I took the same class again, but as an advanced student.  The perk to that was running into the teacher over the summer at a concert … she was stoned as hell.  She knew I had enough on her to get her license pulled, so when I took her class the second time, I was rarely there and still got a B.  :-)

 

I went to college for a little while after I graduated, but, at that point I was pretty deep into drugs and was dealing with my depression (although I didn’t know what was wrong with me, only that I was miserable doing just about everything).  I quit attending most of my classes within the first few weeks, and only ended up passing a single class, an intro to business course.  All of the students were dressed nice and there I was, all black, long hair, stoned out of my mind and acing the class without any trouble.  It seems I excel at things I enjoy … go figure.

 

It was that last semester of high school when I turned 18 and was introduced to the goth/industrial club scene in Detroit.  I had never been to Detroit before, but walking into this run down hotel in the heart of the city and finding my way up this crumbling stairway was in and of itself an experience.  The black and white murals which covered the walls showed dark scenes depicting the seven deadly sins and the rhythmic thump of the music could be felt deep in the concrete structure beneath my feet.  I didn’t look like I belonged there, but, upon walking into the place for the first time, surrounded by the freaks and misfits of society, I knew I was home.

 

The years pealed away so easily while lost in the illusion of that place.  City Club was the epicenter of a movement, but whatever the direction was, I don’t think we ever really knew.  We could all feel it.  We know it was start there, but in the end, nothing did.  We were all growing old waiting for something … anything; but all for not.

 

We only grew older.

 

The millennium came and went, the music changed, yet we stayed the same.  Our dances evolved, new faces came and went, yet we were all still there, counting the days until we could go again and speaking of the ‘glory’ days of the scene.  Some escaped into lives proper and fitting to the society we dwelled within, but not a part of.  Some just disappeared one day, never to be heard from again; no longer a face in the crowd.  Some died; by their own hand or the cold hand of chaos, the end was the same.

 

After so many years living on the edge of society and drinking it all in, I too had reached a breaking point.  An old friend, turned lover, turned goddess.  I was so entwined in the excess of all that was, that I failed to realize just how bad my actions could hurt another.  I made the mistake, one night, of kissing a girl while I was drunk and it caused a HUGE scene that eventually made it into someone’s blog … a blog the girl I was seeing was subscribed to and read the following morning.  She was out of state for training (she was in the Army) and called me in tears.  She asked me what happened and I told her the truth.  To this day, when everything is silent around me, I can still hear her heart break.

 

That was the beginning of the end.  I moved out of the apt I was in and into a house with some friends, which made my commute to work about 30 minutes.  My car died and I couldn’t afford the work to get it fixed, so an old friend gave me her van since she was moving to California.  The van was broken into that night and when they attempted to hotwire it, they fried out the electrical system.  In a rage, they broke out all the windows and slashed the tires.  Shortly after, a buddy had his car impounded and said that if I paid the impound fee I could have the car but it needed a new alternator.  I did and replaced the part, but it left me broke and I couldn’t get it street legal.  I still had to get to work, so I put the plate from my original car onto it.  Little did I know that I had blown a fuse and my tail lights were out.  Got pulled over, nearly arrested.  300 dollars in tickets.  Missed work.  After that, the girl who gave me the van sold me her 86 Grand Marquis for 800 bucks.  I gave her 200, which was all I could spare, with the goal of paying her the rest when I could.  I had been in that car many times and although it looked like shit, it drove like a dream.  I drove it to work the next morning without issue, and then the damn thing broke down on me while driving home.  I called her from the side of the highway and, laughing, asked her to guess where I was.  She was stunned, and more so, was dumbfounded by the streak of bad luck that had fallen upon me. 

 

4 cars in 3 weeks if you can believe that.  I lost my job, had to move out of the house since I couldn’t afford my rent anymore.  Ended up with another buddy, in another town, with the hopes of being able to walk to a future job.  Nobody was hiring.  What made it worse was that he quit his job after I had been there about two weeks, so neither of us had income.  We were hungry, living on rice, no work to be found.  I sold a lot of my things in order to survive, but it was never enough to get anywhere or do much of anything.  Then, the eviction papers arrived.

 

With nowhere to go, nothing left to my name, it was time for some hard choices.  I was at the recruiting office about a week later and started the process.  I needed to detox before I went to meps, but, they didn’t have to sell me anything.  I WAS going to join the navy and get out of the situation I was in.  It was just a matter of getting clean, and picking a job.  Seven months later I was on a plane to Chicago, and the rest, I guess, is history.

 

Ing

Why am I drawn to you?  What is this feeling I have that you are suppose to play a part in my life?  You are beautiful, alluring and seem to contain much of what I have been looking for all my life, yet, I can not touch.  I think that is a good thing for now, for without friendship, without trust, there can’t be anything else.  The rest is carnal; the ape that we once were coming to the surface.  Be that as it may, I want to hold you in my arms and tell you these things as whispers shared between only you and I.  Although I want to scream it at the moon, I must only think in whispers.

What is the role you are to play in my life, and why does this feeling tell me that it shall be more than what I ever dreamed possible?

 

Two days and no demons to do battle with.  I’m not so cocky as to say this current spike in my depression is over, but, at least for now, I am at peace.

 

Ocean of Causality

The shadows crawl within me, blocking out the light of hope.  With claws and fangs hidden beneath pale skin I walk the land hidden by a mask of flesh and plastic smile.
Yet I know the truth of my condition, even if those around me do not; and those who do, run scared once they understand the full reality of my condition.

I am insane.

There is no other logical explanation that I can find.  I am a crazed lunatic with just enough sense to realize my sickness, but not enough will to do anything about it.  The shadows have consumed me.  My consumption of the past a hindrance to creating a stable mind, and I am lost unto myself.

I regret many things.

Yet try as I might, I have not the strength today to deal with the delusions crawling through my psyche.  I grasp at ghosts in an attempt to find some sort of stability, yet I fail.  I try to convince myself that I can do this alone, yet more often than not I fail in the attempt; thus finding myself once again reaching for somebody to hold me up.

I have spent a great deal of time gazing upon the water, attempting to find patterns within the chaos.  There are times I believe I see them, but the patterns do not hold true and I am once again stuck at square one.

To say that there are patterns would not be right, however, there is repetition in the waves, just not in the same place nor from the same directions.  In such, although it seems like a pattern, it is not.

 

Much like my life, it is nothing but chaos; just another wave in an ocean of causality.

 

The night sets in again.  Long, endless and dreary.  It falls upon me like a weight, for I know that with the coming of dawn, I will still be me.  The masks I wear are incomplete, never fully able to reflect the outward appearance that I wish to show.  There isn’t a mask for confidence.  The mask I wear keeps most people off my back; keeps them at bay so that they don’t vocalize their worry.  This is the mask I wear the most.  With plastic smile I walk through my day, faking out the world into thinking all is well.  They see it, they know it, and they expect nothing less.  Truth be told, the man beneath the porcelain facade is a crumbling creature with little left to keep him sane.

 

In the end, the mask comes back on.  Light does not exist within this soul, and only shadows remain.

I lived far too long in a world of excess, so much so that now during these dry times, I crave like an addict.  This is a test, and one I shall surpass.

I must stick to my own rules and resolutions, for there is nothing worse than failing oneself.

oceans

When I look at the water, I see nothing but chaos, however, in that chaos I see repeating patterns.  They are few and far between, yet they are there, in the underlying aspect of what it is.  The rise and fall of the waves come and go, although seemingly random, it is not.  It makes me think of aspects of my life, the peeks and valleys of my existence and I can’t help but look at the chaos and smile, knowing that it isn’t just me, but all of us.

We are but external pressure on the other, creating the ebb and flow of society with the choices we make.  In such, we are destined to be tied into those who are closest to us, yet, with those whom we don’t even know the name of nor ever will.  Just like the individual drops of water which form the ocean, so to are we.  Each one of us is a single drop, our world the ocean.  Cause and effect is the chaos of the sea crashing against the hull of this ship, and we are along for the ride with little choice into how things actually play out.

A single drop can not force itself to go against the masses, and in such, a whitecap is formed.  The larger swell consumes the smaller one in an act of destruction which is turbulent and complete.  So to it seems is my life up until this point.  After spending years in a smaller movement it came to a head as I got older and was surrounded and crushed by society as a whole.  In such, I have been cast into a world which is not of my choosing and it is foreign and strange to me.  I don’t know how to act in it, how to speak, how to love.  Everything is so different in this place and to be honest, it scares me to death.

The scene that I spent most of my adult life in was not normal in any sense of the word.  I accepted this without thought for I have never seen myself as being normal.  I was a freak before I knew what a freak was.  Yet now, I am surrounded by normal society … by jock boys, cheerleaders, thugs and preps, and I just don’t know how to be social with them.  I nod and smile, but in the end, I am at a loss.  I honestly still don’t know what it was you saw in me, for I have never seen it in myself.  Then again that’s where most of my doubts came from, for in the end, I’ve never felt I was worth being loved.

A long time ago I spoke of reflections, and what we see when we look into the mirror.  What I see is a waste of a man, full of doubt and self hate.  I see the scars and the pain of my past.  I see disappointment and weakness.  Although I know that the world sees something else, I can not picture them actually seeing something I am not.  Those who do tend to close the door, few rarely stick around to see what happens next.

I have found that in most of my relationships in the past, I hid my true self, but then again, I didn’t understand what was going on in the first place, and in such, my true self wasn’t even known to me.  Now that I understand more of what is going on inside my head, I have learned that I have to hide it if I’m ever going to find some resemblance of happiness.  I feel that I will always have to hide who I am, and that saddens me greatly, for if I hide, then it will never be real.  I’ll just be playing a role in the ocean of eternity.

 

At the end of the day I pretend as I lay, lay down to dream for a long winters nap.
I think of a time when oblivion is mine and a hand held in time is the way.
Yet when I wake up the sorrow returns for I am alone all the way.

 

hope

“When all you know are shadows, the smallest spec of hope becomes the brightest light you have ever seen.  Yet in my experience, that light is but a will-o-wisp, leading you deeper into darkness and despair.”

 

Three and a Half

 

Here I am

Nothing but me

Living this life

Of obscurity

Watching the clock

Counting down

Three and a half years

It all goes down

When the money is gone

Say to myself

Time for the end

An end to myself

Spike my vein

Goodbye to this curse

This life that I live

This universe

Then finally escape

From the hollow within

Death of this body

Farewell to sin

Wicked and weak

Been all my life

When the money is gone

End of my strife

But today I am here

Lonely and reverting

Becoming the man

That I was averting

Walking in shoes

Of times long past

Taking and taking

Giving no repasts

All for a moment

To feel I am real

To feel I am wanted

To escape and to steal

A moment of peace

In a world full of chaos

Drinking it in

Never lasts

For at the end of the day

Worthless and weak

Three and a half years

Should be next week.

 

Bad Choices

I take the things I do not want;

Attempt to chase the pain away.

Though I know it’s all a farce;

I do it anyway.

I know my actions lead to sorrow;

Somewhere down the road.

For in the end I know for sure;

She is not my heart.

A moment it is and nothing more;

Repeated time and time again.

Pressed against the shadowed wall;

I take what I please, and give nothing in return.

She is the toy I do not favor;

Something just to pass the time.
Yet in the end I know the truth;

I am still alone.

 

random

Shadows form into figures within the fog;

Gibbering in an unknown tongue

I am watching, yet not afraid.
I hear them, but understand nothing.

I think they are here for me,

I am joyous;

There is an end in sight.
Now I await their chill touch upon my soul;

Draining life; eating pain.
When they are done I shall be free;

This mortal coil finally shed.
Dream of nothing but tomorrow;

Yet it shall be just like today,

Useless and full of sorrow.

 

“Nobody loves a poet in a world full of soldiers”

 

Isolation

Isolation;

Dreams of the past,

Echoing silently through the night.
Memories of greatness lost in the ether of days gone by.

 

Hopeless regression

Today is today;
and nothing more

Sailing far from home.

 

Yet dream I do of past lives

Grasping things that never come
Simple times lost with age

Dancing drinking playing games

All have gone with the flow of time

I am not who I was but am none the less.

The scars of mistakes have shaped this boy

The man who stands before thee

Silent and calm with nothing to lose

The days lay out before me.

 

With age come other thoughts

Of waste and want and glory

Drifting through the age of dreams

With nothing left to show thee.

 

Foreign Shores

Sun fades to red dipping beneath the western edge, far away the children cry.
Dark sky crawling east to west to chase it to the dawn.
Sailors drifting at the whim of the powers left on shore.

Fighting wars on foreign shores, no glory if we win.
Yet here we are; the melting pot; the cops of planet Gaia;

Drifting through the ancient seas, guns prepared to fire.

 

Ghosts

I find myself talking to ghosts, the expectation of response does not exist.  It isn’t the same feeling as being ignored, not anymore, since I know that she reads the words and judges not what I say.

 

She never has.

 

So I continue to write the thoughts and reflections that come to me in the middle of the night, joy and pain; light or dark.  I can close my eyes and see her reading them; crooked smile and dark eyes shining.  A guilty pleasure reaching to her from the past who has never truly let go of the dream they once shared.

 

I write, yet I expect nothing.  I crave her touch even years later; images never truly faded over time come to me in my sleep.  Those who have truly marked me hold this place of honor, for with each one there was something that drew me.  Their intelligence, their charm, their curiosity … she held them all within the palm of her hand, yet had the weakness of self doubt holding her back.

 

Now she lives in a far away place, living a life of her choosing.  Even now she is free in spite of conforming to societies needs, and even now I still miss her.

 

Now I live in this far away place and my mind still dwells within her dark eyes, trapped forever in her smile.

 

The storms come less frequent now; the meds doing what meds are suppose to do.  I find myself tired all the time though, and I am not looking forward to the next seven months.  12 plus hours a day, 7 days a week for 7 months straight is not something anybody looks forward to.  The light at the end of the tunnel, however, is that I will be done with my contract shortly thereafter and a new life shall begin, whatever that may be.  I realized that I'll have around 50k saved up by the time I'm done, which is a nice turn-around from walking into bootcamp without a penny to my name, nor any form of credit on the books.

But where does the newborn go from here?

Shadows glee

What do I become if I allow the shadows to overcome me instead of spending my days fighting off their influence as I always do?  Will it, in fact, be an end to the turmoil that drags me into this darkened pit or will it be the end of me?  It seems to easy to just allow myself to fall into an endless nothing and let the world be damned, yet I resist.

I can feel them crawling beneath my skin.  I can hear them calling.  They are waiting for a weakened moment in which to strike.  They are with me right now, watching through my eyes and tainting my vision with their dreaded sight.

I am hungry, the attentions that keep them at bay have not been mine for a long time.  When there are arms around me, I know not the shadows whisper.  I am alone in this world in so much as I know not the warm touch of one who truly cares.

The shadows laugh and rip at my soul with sharpened claws and I am torn asunder.

I can not fight this war alone forever.

Awoken from the Immortal Dream

There was a time when I could still feel my heartbeat, and during those moments I knew what it meant to be alive.  Now, alone in my third decade of life I realize that what I felt was the immortal condition common to all youth.  What I thought was life was in fact a delusion brought on by a lack of knowledge.  Knowledge of what it was really like to exist outside of a realm of my own creation. 

There was a time when I was free; free to be what I wanted to be whenever I closed my eyes.  I would walk strange lands and do amazing things, but alas, like all things this to has come to an end.  For now, all I see is the cold nature of our bleak existence upon this planet and I loath the coming of the sun.  This too was a condition of my youth, and like all things, it was beaten out of me with time.

Even the most majestic of all statues weathers and fades in time.

I use to have this understanding, I would find the things I held dear.  I believed that all things would come to me if I wanted it enough, and in such, I was lost in dream.  Today, I awoke to the cold reality that awaited me.  I found that I was alone in this world, and that no amount of false hope would change that.

I dread the coming year, but more so, I fear what lies behind it.  I am neither martyr nor king.  I am but only ash, just waiting to blow away in the next strong breeze.  To this, I owe nothing except my mortality and the realization that love is but a pipedream to me.

Who could love this twisted monster when he can’t find it in himself to find even the slightest spark of reason to love himself?

Even these words are meaningless, even though broadcast to the world for all to read.

Today I awoke, to find myself asleep at the wheel.

Animation

The day drags on and the dark seas are endless as I scrape through each passing moment a little weaker than the one before.  It as if this vast ocean is pulling my life away, string by string, until nothing but a broken puppet remains. 

I hold onto shadows, for that is all I have right now.  Hope burns like fire but feels false in the obfuscated light of my demons presence.  I scream but no words come out.  I cry but nobody sees my cracked mask.  They do not see, because it’s locked inside this false front I call me. 

If they only knew the chaos within my head; the trouble’s of my soul.  If they saw they would crumble beneath its weight like so many in the past have done.  Those I let in, run away shaking their heads, knowing, without a shadow of doubt that I have truly lost myself to the chaos inside.

I am lost unto myself.  A sliver of who I want to be.  A shadow of what I was.  Ghosts of memory haunting my every step as I walk through my day as if in a haze. 

White walls turn orange.

Physically I am drained.  I go through the motions of the day but I do not feel that I am really here.  It is as if something else controls my actions while my mind spins … stuck on the same song.  I know of no other recourse but to wait for the rain to stop falling.

I need to escape.

I need arms around me and whispers in my ear telling me that I will be ok.  I need eyes upon me, watching me in my sleep.  I need to shake this feeling that I am alone, else it shall consume me whole.

I fell I have nothing left of myself save these shadows which have animated me.

This is not the way I want to live my life.

A Pledge to Self

The scars are etched deep into my psyche.  Those moments from the past that changed me into who I am today; lost in a world of my own creation.  I fight against the flowing tide, cast out the demons within yet feeling as if I am making no progress at all.

I scream.

The echo’s of the sad sound fall heedless around me.  Does anybody hear my plight?

Temptation’s carrot dangled before me yet I can not touch; though salvations in sight.  I have something, a growing warmth inside my chest which screams out a new name.  A name that brings thoughts of a better future; thoughts of tomorrow’s bright light upon my skin.

She makes me not want to hide anymore.  She calls me to the light and makes me face my demons.  She wraps her arms around me and for a moment, their cries cease to pierce my fragile ego. 

Can this be me?

I look into the mirror and I see the weak being that is left after all these years of rot.  My skin pale, my eyes dull.  I look at that reflection and I cringe knowing that what I see is not the real me, but a glimpse at what the world sees … my scars hidden from their view.  I gaze upon that mirror and I hate the weak creature that gazes right back.

She is a dream.  My queen from long ago, but just because I say such things does not make it so.  I wish to hold her in my arms from now until eternity, but such things are not yet written, and the path is painfully long.  There are doubts, though she does not voice them.  Somehow I just know they are there, lingering below the surface yet unspoken.  There are doubts, that I will be strong enough, fast enough, young enough.  There are doubts that I will not be fun enough, laugh enough, feel enough. 

There are doubts that I can be whole again.

However, although I have doubts, I have a reason to fight, for her eyes fill me with so much hope and encouragement.  I have told her my flaws and still she looks at me.  I have told her the cause of my deepest scars and still she wraps her arms around me. 

How could I not try to overcome the sum of my parts?  How could I not try to be the man she remembers from so long ago; a lifetime and more.  How could I not try to beat back the demons that have held me in the shadows for so many years.  How could I not try…

How could I not try?

I will try, but I fear I will fail.  I will try, but I fear I will fall.  I will try, but I fear I’m not good enough.  I will try…

I will try.

I will try to be the man that I want to.  I will try to beat the demons aside.  I will try to be as strong as I can be.  I will try to be the man that she needs.

How could I let this opportunity pass me?  How could I let my fears set aside a future so bright, though my past will not let me.  I’ll conquer those fears by the look in her eyes.

By the look in her eyes; by the strength of my soul, I will conquer these demons.

I will walk again in the light and cherish the beauty of the day without suffering. 

This I swear.

For you, I will.  For me, I will.  For us, I will.

fragments of yesterdays tomorrow

I am a shadow of who I once was, but, if who I was was just a shadow to begin with, then what am I now?

I am a fragment of what once was, but a stronger man.  In such, the shadow I am of who I was is not a shadow at all, but a reflection of a brighter future.

questions

A touch in the dark; most welcome and needed in the light of the moon jump-starts my soul.

What do they mean?

Why were they done?

Will there be another?

The questions roll through my mind at an ever increasing rate.  However, one question above all others is loud and clear. 

Where will they lead?

A hug. 

A hug is next on the list.   A simple evolution from a touch it is.  It is a maneuver which is profound in its ability to convey more information to the other person.  A hug is a clear sign of more than just a touch, for a touch can be accidental, or taken as something it is not.  A hug, on the other hand, can have multiple meanings, but not as many as a touch.  In such, it narrows down the possibilities of what that moment truly means.

What do they mean?

Why were they done?

Will there be another?

The questions roll through my mind at an ever increasing rate.  However, one question above all others is loud and clear.

Where will they lead?

A kiss.

A kiss is next on the list.  A complex evolution from a hug it is.  It is a maneuver which is profound in its ability to convey even greater information to the other person than just a hug.  A kiss is a clear sign of more than just a hug, for a hug can mean many things or be taken as something it is not.  A kiss, on the other hand, can have multiple meanings, but not as many as a hug.  In such, it narrows down the possibilities of what that moment truly means.

What does it mean?

Why was it done?

Will there be another?

The questions roll through my mind at an ever increasing rate.  However, one question above all others is loud and clear…

Where will it lead?

Echo's of Self

There is nothing in this head of mine

Nothing left

Nothing divine

Nothing to drive me through the day

Nothing I say

Nothing I say

Nothing

No words

Not on this day

Nothing I say

Nothing I say

Nothing is left in this head I say

Nothing today

Nothing today

F-4

I am an echo of what humanity should be.  A festering scab on the face of Mother Earth which grows and consumes with each passing day.  I am contagious, a faceless statistic.  I am what my grandparents fought against.  I am a social misfit with a chip on my shoulder.  I am a consumer and an abuser of my temple.  I am against everything and for nothing.

I am the taste of a new generation.

Scold me, I care not.  Fuck your pompous facts of a godless book.  Fuck your social stigmata, bleeding from your eyes like some sort of martyr.  Fuck your designer car, your designer cat, your designer haircut.  Fuck your face.

But most of all, fuck you.

Brought to you by the letter F and the number 4.

Void

Tonight I have nothing.   The void inside me has eaten all that remained of my creative spirit and has given ghosts in return.  I am spent, my mind awash with the contained thoughts of that which I can not hold; can not touch.

An ache fills me as I sit and think that in spite of the puppet-show that I put on, I have nothing awaiting my return.  No arms to take me in or welcome me home.

All in all, it is just another day in the life.  A life which is mine to own and no others.

A life of regrets, scars and hard lessons; a life of endless voids.

Is there nothing more for me than these words?

The void grows and I am nothing but its shadow.



fantasy

A soft knock at the door announced her arrival.

He paused with his hand over the knob, taking a deep breath to relax before taking the next step in what could be one of the wildest adventures of his life.  He opened the door with a smile on his face, a worried, scared smile, but a smile none the less.  God he hoped she didn’t notice how freaked out he was over this, their first real time together. 

Little did he know her heart was racing faster than his own.

He had it all planned out you see.  They hadn’t ever really heard the others voice.  Not in the traditional sense that people generally do at least.  Their world was one of high speed modems and LCD displays, not telephones and coffee shops, in such, the only time they actually heard the others voice was the brief moment their paths crossed many months ago; A moment which set a series of events in motion and led to this very day.

This very moment.

He remembered what it was he was he had planned and an awkward moment looking into eyes.  He placed a single finger before his lips, letting her know not to say a word, then he beckoned her in to the room and toward the open balcony.

The view was nothing special for this part of the world.  One she had seen many times he was sure, but not from this place, not with this company.  The balcony overlooked the sea, the waves crashing onto shore while lightning from a distant storm lit the sky every few moments.

“Close your eyes my dear, and listen.  Tell me what you hear.”

“I hear the waves,” she said softly.

“That,” he said, “is the heartbeat of the world; heard on every shore across the planet.  It is the life-blood of Gaia, whom created all these things for us to enjoy.”

…

She smiled, knowing that he was the same person she had been talking to for all these months.  He had a tendency to talk about such things.  Sometimes she knew what he was talking about and others she did not quite grasp the concepts.  Whatever the case, she liked the poetry of it all and how he spoke to her of all the things life has to offer.

She had fallen for his words, but this is different.  Now he stands behind her, whispering things and leaning close.  The night is chilly and the wind strong high above the ground.  She can feel the warmth of his body near her own and leans back just a little, hoping they would accidently connect.

Hoping he wouldn’t pull away.

…

She leaned into him, sharing their warmth.  He accepted this willingly, eagerly even.  This was the first time they had touched, and he wanted to saver the moment’s beauty.  If not for him, then for her memory of what could be a perfect moment in time.

They stood like that for a long time, until finally the chill sank into their very bones and forced them to retreat shivering into the room.  The conversation had been light but cheery, both talking of how nervous they were and how silly it really was.  That it felt like they were playing a part in some love story written long ago by an unknown artist.  Something never published, but left within a book, never to see the light of day.

He poured them a drink and they continued to talk long into the night.  Hopes, dreams, regrets, the past, the future, and as one drink turned to three their talk turns to a kiss.

It wasn’t one of those you see in the movies.  There was no dramatic pause as the couple slowly leaned in, looking deep into the others eyes.  This was as if they had communicated their intent telepathically and agreed that at that moment, conversation would cease and a new stage of their relationship would begin.

It was clear that they were hungry.  Their want etched clearly across the flush of their skin, the pace of their breath. 

This was nothing if not primal.

He reached around with one hand and grabbed her hair, pulling her head teasingly to the side his lips broke from hers and found the soft flesh at the side of her neck.  Her breath caught in throat and a sigh quickly followed.

He found a spot.

Their lust grew by the moment, and neither had any doubt of where this night would lead.  They knew before they had even seen each other that this was an outcome they both wanted.  She was inexperienced but willing and he was more than qualified to teach her.  In spite of that, it was as if they had always been.  No awkward moments, no tripped up words. 

Their hands flew across the others body as if they had always been one, separated but never truly apart from the other.  She knew his weakness’s as he knew hers.  Both were ready to explode long before their cloths even came off.

TBC….    :P