beneath a burned out sun and colorless sky
crawling towards the abyss
belonging nowhere
but there
but here
down here
on a beach of stones & dirt and rotting shit
a sea like blood
warm and unmoving
dead
desirable to swim there
drownd there
Dragging myself where to?
paralysed
born away by the waves of wine and blood
nausea
i can't see
i don't belong to death or life
dark or light
i stab you...push you away
i don't yearn for a touch
leave me alone
i'm no part of you
My heart numb and unused
i drink swallowing past the taste
trying to kill my mind
forcing myself into oblivion
consciousness receding...sinking
into the muddy bottom
of blood and winesoaked dreams.
------------------------------------------------------------
My heart
Made of half decayed leaves
and autumn mists
a handful of mud
coming apart at your careless touch
My soul
Like a flock of birds
tossed by an invisible hand
scattering across a rainy sky
dissolving
Myself
Like a shallow pool in winter
frozen almost to the ground
------------------------------------------------------------
Glacier landscape
your fingers are bloody
Layers and layers and layers
sheathed in ice
to the tiniest twig, the last remaining leaf
The fibers of heart and mind
numbed muscle splittering bones
fragile
frozen life
ice all over
translucent solid cold
filling the void soul entirely
looking out of icey eyes
utterly dead
unmoving and unmoved
unhurt....unloved
painted and draped with emotions not my own
a stranger's joy
a stranger's pain
imagined stranger
my hands are blood streaked
now i truly am
futile
wasteland
internal
complete self deconstruction
leaving a brittle shell
enclosed an inner void
ravaged
nothing has stirred here for a long time
letting slip pieces of my former self
strange and unrecognizable
dead anyway
dropping from numb hands
i discard them crumbled to dust
dreams of the blue sky
quietly laid to rest
listening to the harsh stillness
echoing from the enclosing walls
Painfulls drawing forgotten words from depths
Where all words have dried up in bitter silence
scraping meaningless phrases from the bottom of the soul
surfacing again, but upon a wasteland
surfacing but wearily refusing to open my eyes
to wa world dead to me
