..thing inside me..
there is something wrong. i am in danger. there is a poisonous thing inside me. the beast in my chest... he's sick. and sad. and very, unbearably, lonely. i feel him dying. i'm afraid if he does, then i will too.
i won't fall down dead. i'll expire standing up. talking to people. doing the things i do. i'll walk up the street, and smile at people who don't notice me. but i'll be carrying this dead, poisonously oozing thing in my chest. the sun will shine through my skin, and the rib cage, onto his lifeless, fetal body. my eyes will look like his.
the people i know, i can't tell. they won't like it. they'll feel tense and burdened by this horrible thing. they ask how i am and i say 'good' or 'ok!' and i smile and they believe it. because they want to. sometimes i tell them i'm 'awesome' with two thumbs up, and a grin they can't refuse. it works. no one knows. how could they?
i dream that charon's boat glides. we're escorting the dying thing inside me to a place where people care. they feel love, deeply, always. they open their arms to the lifeless thing in me, and hold me close, and let the living, shining things inside them breathe through our bodies. how could anything -not- live in the presence of beauty like that, i think.
it was just a dream, and i think it wasn't my dream. it was the dream of the thing inside me, that doesn't want to die.
i won't fall down dead. i'll expire standing up. talking to people. doing the things i do. i'll walk up the street, and smile at people who don't notice me. but i'll be carrying this dead, poisonously oozing thing in my chest. the sun will shine through my skin, and the rib cage, onto his lifeless, fetal body. my eyes will look like his.
the people i know, i can't tell. they won't like it. they'll feel tense and burdened by this horrible thing. they ask how i am and i say 'good' or 'ok!' and i smile and they believe it. because they want to. sometimes i tell them i'm 'awesome' with two thumbs up, and a grin they can't refuse. it works. no one knows. how could they?
i dream that charon's boat glides. we're escorting the dying thing inside me to a place where people care. they feel love, deeply, always. they open their arms to the lifeless thing in me, and hold me close, and let the living, shining things inside them breathe through our bodies. how could anything -not- live in the presence of beauty like that, i think.
it was just a dream, and i think it wasn't my dream. it was the dream of the thing inside me, that doesn't want to die.