Saturday, January 3, 2009

I just want to go home.
Please.
Enough is enough.
How much more abuse will you make me take?
I'm on the threshold of a nightmare and it looks to swallow me.
I'm afraid.
I just want to go home, where it is warm and safe.
Warm and safe in Your arms forevermore.
Without these tears, this pain and all of the fear.
Where the sun burns forever and every tear is wiped away.
Please carry me there, I'm too weak to walk.
My faith has fallen on broken legs. the blood is thick.
Please do not forget me here.
Please.
Words, no words. God no words. I am sighing and no words.

Dark Shapes in Light

I'm drunk off the pain burning with me
and high off the pills they gave me.
I just wish I could afford something
to numb me inside
long enough to kill what makes it beat.

I tried screaming to no effect.
It is like living inside a moving picture,
seeing the people move about
not hearing a single word
while creating this caricature
of my own design.
It wasn't like this was a design
or a real desire
but it took place and it did.

A bit like an infection really,
this burning cancer in my lungs.
Eating me from the inside to the out,
showing as much love as dark grace.

It is too much to ask for random death to be free,
it is too much to hope for an early release from pain.
Words can not describe the confusion
or the brewing madness just a few feet away.
Just how enraged I am,
how unable I am to form words
or make myself heard
or be heard
or be seen
be seen for me
to be known for me
and whatever it is
I am
I am
I am
I am

I heard my voice echo in my head
I want to vomit,
to retch up this selfishness.
This disgusting league of pain,
this defecation of my soul
and this exposure of hypocrisy.
This running out of room to hide
and just pretend I am fine.

I am.
I am?

I dare utter such words of vile disgust.
Holy words profane by my lips,
my tongue,
my mind,
this disgusting reservoir of brackish water,
a haven of bacterial hate,
dirt and putrid smells.

I am this.
I am real.
I am pain.
I am sin.
I am me.
Self realized and nothing to show for it,
except this stupid shirt
and fake words to hide behind.
Ordered and ordained by people.

I am so sick.
I am in so much pain.
Every breath is a ragged attempt at life
and no one sees it.
Even those reading this phrase will not realize,
not understand,
nor comprehend what is truly meant by it.
The lasting implications I feel
for the night ends
and the day begins
but you cannot understand me.
Every layer reveal is just another distraction
another decoy
another pain
another way
another exposure of myself as who I am.
Enough for you to see I am not who I am.

It's exhausting to think like this because
it matters to me to have others care
and to display myself as this sight,
this vision for others to see
and partake in
and view.
This pain they can enjoy
and drink up
and devour.
Just so I will not be alone in this drunken stupor.

I hate all of this almost as much as I hate you,
I hate me
and this world.
It never made sense in here
and I doubt it will make sense in there.
Just, rhetorical
rhetoric
and feelings of lies.

I can't even lie to myself long enough to lie.
It's all stark hypocrisy.
Pain I can't swallow anymore.
Pills that aren't effective anymore.
All lies.
All pretend
all of this fake game.

I feel it eating and gaining.
Pain upon pain.
I feel it growing and groping.
I feel it inside and out.
It begins and ends.
It is and will ever be.

Good night
good bye.
Quitting could never be so sweet.