Thursday, September 24, 2015

The last mile home
Registers as that
.the one space in my day where the end is coming into focus
Of all the dreams I have had,
On this day
They are becoming concrete
.the meaning will be applied to what I remember
And somewhere, my wrist hurts
Somewhere blood has been shed
Somewhere I said too much
And the wounds echo into the future
.the outcome of which is yet to be revealed
Today I lost friends
Today I gained enemies
I changed in so many ways
this moment only echoes the awakening of
the former person I was this morning
.the purpose of this seems to be lacking
Its so unclear what this is supposed to be
This thing. This gift
I’m tired, and I challenge myself further
And through the abuse it grows
This muscle of complexity
Moves faster and faster through their plane
.the reality that they inhabit cannot fathom our depths
I’m so tired of being alone.
And I grow tired of others
And their complacent, ignorant world
Is this an illness?
I do not feel well
Their hearts are too distant from my own
Desiccated under the battery and the noise
.the validity of this; I refuse to accept
I have felt the water of these people
And it is rich, and timely
And laden with all the affection that any heart has to offer
Where the friendship of another
Can heal any wound
I thirst for the cool water
That rises from the city by the mountains, by the ocean, in the desert
In this convergence my body is entangled
.the release of which I have not yet mastered
the nexus of this world
comes in and out of focus
so frequently
I hunger for it insatiably
In those sweet, strange moments
where I am released from the grip of time
in all of the surreal facets that make it relevant at all
where I become whole
by being all of the pieces
.the way that I change through time, but could somehow be called the same.

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