musings

[drunkwithpain]

passionless romance
sex relies on lust or love
silence both and leave your
heartstrings dangling
like dead and broken marionettes.
we are mere puppets without souls
utterly unaware of the driving force behind existence.
we play "life" scene-by-scene,
with the lackluster emotion of a poor off-broadway script.
hope for tomorrow,
a spark that could give breath
and a renewed chance for meaning.
yet hope is dead.
you watch the flittering screen and imagine yourself outside the stage,
a dancing image freed of the bonds of mediocrity.
black thunderclouds illuminate your darkness,
swiftly bringing a close to your fleeting daydream.
dark eyes brim with tears of blood
and abruptly you shake off the short-lived reality,
hurling your mentality swiftly back to the comforts of lustful "living."
drug away all regrets and sleep off any remnants or reminders of pain.
as your eyelids begin their dull, deadened fall,
for a single instand you are granted a glimpse of--
love? life? reality? hell?
grim haze clouds your vision once more.
nothing but a dream.