lots of introspection lately. listening to too much music in my head on a constant loop. too many words of wisdom in those lyrics that cause me to reexamine things and rethink my decisions. there is no changing the past, no sense worrying about it. its the decisions that ive yet to make that are granted much more consideration than they likely deserve.
sometimes it feels if the walls of the world are pressing in on me like a tapered elevator... going down. other times the the horizon seems boundless to the point of absurdity. the clarity of starvation is a saving grace. my eyes grow more empty as i recant these memories. the depths grown so cold. hardening and solidifying, those emotions that rarely surface. at some point im sure they will be vomited forth and the block of pain that they surround will taste bittersweet as im choking.
too much digression in the paragraph. im getting a bit off topic. which i suppose doesnt matter, ive forgotten what i wanted to say at this point.
i look at the sky every night. ive noticed that not a lot of people do that. we tend to take the stars for granted. it seems the only time anyone looks up is when the weather is bad and then we curse the sky for making us late for work/messing up our hair/turning the roads slippery... ect.
i wish everyone would just go out on a nice clear night and look up. see into the depths of the unfathomable universe, all alone in its vastness. so incomplete with its immeasurable voids. so majestic with stray gasses reflecting from the fires of a billion billion suns.
how do people not see that? how can anyone not want to know all the secrets that lie in those lost millennia since long before our small corner of space was created? with our skewed perspective of what life is, the only that space holds for humans is death. that makes me so sad.
i hate the fact that i will never know. i hate that i will never step foot onto a world other than the one to which i was born. never breathe the air of an alien world. never sift through the ruins of alien civilizations older than the sun. never wake to the light of a different sun.
a constant dreamer i suppose. why couldnt i get the dreams that are attainable?
veined and used, rippled by years
rough and abused, laden with time
these hands know so much
they feel so deeply
and have passion in all they do
i love them on their own
they stop me sinking
and rejoice in touching you
they embrace you with the care of a mother
they long for your skin beneath them
it has been far too long
since i have known pain enough to cry
my hands are not used
to the taste of my own tears
for too long they have
wiped away others sorrows caused by me
they are far more
sensitive than the rest of my body
and i have caused
so much hurt to the ones that i love
my hands were the
only way to help redeem my indiscretions
so all the times your face is in my palms
your back under my nails
your breasts beneath finger tips
know that in the end,
these small appendages are not just there
for touching, but are actually
extensions of my heart
and used to convey my joy
at having your company.
of all the thoughts that plague my mind
the ones that i truly miss
are the ones that remain out of my grasp
they flow like ashes in a breeze
coasting on the storm that is my heart
raging forth in its purity
cascading its depths to all who see
bleak in its forecast
and benevolent in its actions
in this life that ive pledged to give
like for so long i have wished to be.
Listening to the music in my head at the culmination of a truly amazing weekend, i heard Room 429 playing in my head. mostly the second half of the song. it was quite liberating. i spilled my guts and exposed myself in ways that i never do. i gave of myself and it was scary and wonderful simultaneously. feeling the things that im completely unaccustomed to feeling. hell, just feeling at all. i had almost forgotten what that feels like. stimulation and salvation.
a short little scribble at the request of the fighter who wanted something new...
projectile on a tiny red leash
reminding me of how exposed i lay
and to whom i am indebted
for that exposure
ive severed so much emotion previously
that to have it be re-attached
is painful in the most blissful sort of way
i had grown accustomed to seeing nothing
when i look into the eyes of others,
yet now, i can see unfathomable depths in one
my memory serves me less and less
but my heart explodes with want
the subtleties of passing glances
now return to embolden my desires
leaving me with a longing for that touch
that vanished with responsibility.