emo emo emo
long long day. long long night. too hot to sleep. heart is aching for distant loved ones and i am missing something again. whether it was taken or given in good faith i remember not. just having a jonah/job kind of day. dancing trees on the panoramic canvas of memory, dreaming in my waking hours and dead quiet in sleep.
imaginal cells, methinks. betwixt the void and soul, the metaphorical greyhound station. like the terminal on which i waited to board a boston bus. do you think they wait for us beyond the veil, that they walk beside us now, all the ones who came before, who died their brilliant and afflicted deaths? perhaps the summer heat is really the sweltering of souls, grasping for a foothold to life? or worse, their absence quivers through the latent air like lightning, with no cooling rain to follow.
my soul is cracked my loves, and lays like broken earth for water first then seeds to sprout. my faith long since abandoned, i have learned to rely on habits and hope. and i will survive. i just don;t know if i will arrive hollow or useful on the other side ? i am grass: flattened, walt, and broken in the august angst. where is my cooling summer rain? shredding like so much scorched sin, i can only hunker down and wait. new hurdles emerge, old mountains fade into the dust. and there he lays, my fallen tree, my papa bear. riddling the room of adolescence like a question, or statement or both.
we struggle with purpose and the cryptic gifts of mystery and mischief. i will someday be consumed from within by this painful love for all things that drinks at me, that leaks me out, the will shrivel me down to bitterness and resentment for all.
I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here
And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know
That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest
What if I'd been born fifty years before you
In a house on a street where you lived?
Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your bike
Would I know?
And in a white sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know
That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest
I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you
Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
And his wife; she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away
I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong
That I know
That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest