In photos we smile, we appear happy
even if we feel kind of crappy
‘Pictures don’t lie’ – likely not true
kind of like ‘Darling, I love you'
The voice is mine and yet not,
I have nurtured it, both goaded,
and placated it,
until its tongue is as liquid as molten
silver.
It is not human, never was.
It came to me as a stray dog would,
though it is more a bird than canine,
for it will fly up into my throat.
without any help from my mind.
Perhaps it is that fabled muse,
yet it is also,
a hag and a crone,
sometimes a sweet-faced harlot.
I cannot count its many faces.
It is a male wolf, a stag in the wilderness,
its call is a summons for my ghost to speak,
to feast upon the vapor
of a blood script.
Gentled am I, made meek and mild,
A mute angel roams my earth,
it hunts for white doves.
The captured birds are taught
to mark scratches upon a plasmid velum,
symbols that utter the un-utterable.
I have this strange-strangers voice,
I have a hollow stem
that rises up to pierce a deep inward sky,
what it will say next, what it has now said,
and what I am now,
only the voice knows.
We who are hiding in our second bedrooms,
Licking the silver from the backs of our screens.
Are living in a differently timed zone
Of waking awareness.
Sometimes 2, sometimes 3, sometimes 4 or more
Lives are lived each night.
In our rooms
By ourselves
Sitting too close to our beds.
This is our perpetuity
The lasting legacy of our species:
The glow that now contests the light that once shone from our eyes
Rises up to the razor’s edge of our understanding of
What is Unknown.
What is un-utterable.
What can barely be thought , much less said and
Yet keeps these words dancing so merrily across this page.
Caught in the ballet of silence that surrounds them.
Who are you reading this?
And what are you afraid of?
What perturbs your eternal sleep-walk into this night?
Are there questions you are pondering?
Or are you merely waiting for the screens to pull through for you?
Into your own quiet, private world,
Where the things that count never change.
And no one is dreaming you but your mother
Who has left you now for another child.
More: http://is-she-available.com
I wake in the night crying & sceaming out your name
My hearts failing me im ripped to part inside
i can no longer sleep
i can no longer feel
My life's changing i no longer feel real
i feel dead all these mixed up feelings in my head
i wake up shaking tears running down my face
i feel so utterable out of place
i have no home i have no faith
My life's cut in two
i wake up wanting you
it kills me inside
I'm going back to old ways
i have no reason to care
my lifes hell
which i can no longer bear
heart wrenching terror
i feel so alone
i wish you could help me find my way back home
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