enjoy the wait

[furorpoeticus]

There are times when I browse through this journal, on a specific tag, on a hunt, or just because;
there's no rhyme or reason to the time intervals that pass between the weeks, months, and days.

I most often visit my poetry, to re-read the pieces of me I couldn't explain in any other way. The things I wished I could say that I still can't say today.

I just, in moments like these, have no hold of the structure of reality, even though I'm sitting here, solid and breathing, under a yellow light, unable to sleep, always scared to fight (But I'll have to anyway.)

There are no words for me tonight.

But for all the dark hours I've spent in this familiar daze

as i leaf through
electronic tomes
of who i used to be
all i see are mottled wings
broken attempts
at apathy;
the roots that grew
up into me
what did i do
to deserve this
bleeding head
of loneliness

(remember, never to hide your feelings
the bitter thoughts that ghost through your head
travel through your fingertips when you touch
others)

Feel is a foreign concept.
And I'm still an undead contradiction.