the anteroom
i hate this day.
this sunny, clear day.
it mocks me - it mocks all of us.
i am not depressed nor wanting death,
but i am in need of shadow.
having to be normal in my home
having to pretend i feel anything other than the halloween creep out,
makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
the airelessness is sickening.
it sucks the vapor of life out of me
and collapses my lungs.
these in between times.
the times between dawn and dusk...
between fall's end and fall's beginning...
the times when not so busy i forget to notice myself...
it is in these times that i want to vomit.
that the nausea gets me.
i have no desire to die...
i'm just exhausted walking this long hallway of all white-ish colored walls...
banging on doors that don't open;
hallucinating knobs where there are none to turn...
i need a place
a space
a time
where i can dissolve into a mood....
into a room completely.
i am nauseous with detachment
and desperate to take a lantern lit hike up into the mountainous woods...
to listen to owls, deer and crickets...
to be led by lightening bugs
bit by mosquitoes...
i want a far away cabin -
but not the evil barren ones...
the ones that are soft with care but deep with creep...
a place with a breeze,
a porch
an endless supply of light summer wine...
the purr of a kitten
and the comfort of another person - male or female - who feels what i do; a person who walks thru my garden with ease for it too is their garden...
i think i am angry
sitting here in ordinary land...
i think i am uneasy -
stuck in something much like the coming down from cocaine torture...
my body disagrees with itself
and my mind pukes bits of itself all over this anteroom my life has become.
i am desperate for autumn
i am waiting for the pumpkins
i am dying to be touched
just a brush of skin as you (??) walk past or even the brief touch of fingers as you pass the wine glass to my hand...
male or female - this is not about sex
i need to be touched in the halloween woods
before i die here, flattened in the small box of ordinary.
this sunny, clear day.
it mocks me - it mocks all of us.
i am not depressed nor wanting death,
but i am in need of shadow.
having to be normal in my home
having to pretend i feel anything other than the halloween creep out,
makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
the airelessness is sickening.
it sucks the vapor of life out of me
and collapses my lungs.
these in between times.
the times between dawn and dusk...
between fall's end and fall's beginning...
the times when not so busy i forget to notice myself...
it is in these times that i want to vomit.
that the nausea gets me.
i have no desire to die...
i'm just exhausted walking this long hallway of all white-ish colored walls...
banging on doors that don't open;
hallucinating knobs where there are none to turn...
i need a place
a space
a time
where i can dissolve into a mood....
into a room completely.
i am nauseous with detachment
and desperate to take a lantern lit hike up into the mountainous woods...
to listen to owls, deer and crickets...
to be led by lightening bugs
bit by mosquitoes...
i want a far away cabin -
but not the evil barren ones...
the ones that are soft with care but deep with creep...
a place with a breeze,
a porch
an endless supply of light summer wine...
the purr of a kitten
and the comfort of another person - male or female - who feels what i do; a person who walks thru my garden with ease for it too is their garden...
i think i am angry
sitting here in ordinary land...
i think i am uneasy -
stuck in something much like the coming down from cocaine torture...
my body disagrees with itself
and my mind pukes bits of itself all over this anteroom my life has become.
i am desperate for autumn
i am waiting for the pumpkins
i am dying to be touched
just a brush of skin as you (??) walk past or even the brief touch of fingers as you pass the wine glass to my hand...
male or female - this is not about sex
i need to be touched in the halloween woods
before i die here, flattened in the small box of ordinary.