Thursday, August 18, 2016

August 18, 2016

Guys, I cant do this.
I cant sit here and comb through this—
Looking at whatever emotional angle
As I return to the house I live at
Where discontent floats like a ghost
through a cat-scented museum
where every day is spun into the one before… and after.
I can’t care—
For the injustice, the anger, the emotion
I’m so sorry.
I can’t feel right now. In some kind of cyclical sandstorm within the depths of myself. My apathy to your perspective condition, makes me feel barren
As if; burning
in the firestorm of my everyday
hardened over my fragility
I can’t love—
I’m overwhelmed in the rage.
Consumed and distracted
In this cacophony
I want to cry out:
Relieve me of my thoughts
Lift me from this wreckage
Heal my wounds
make me whole
but my voice is swept away in the sound
diluted into absurdity
lost to conversation.
Beauty is not something to be obsessed over—
It is something that is experienced
Chiseled into us as we pass through it
And I realize so painfully
this has become integrated within me
the inconsequentiality
of any two-dimensional world.

1 comment:

  1. Boom! This!

    I feel something akin to this every day. I honestly don't understand why things around us don't explode constantly, set off by whatever egregious shit happened to it last. The endurance of people that work hard and take shit is beautiful.