...but hidden inside the delusion
And before I go, I make a visit here (to stay?). I twisted myself. I'm sorry. I have twisted myself so much, I no longer look the same. Hard-boiled decisions. I have always handled harder decisions easily. But this is is a deeper wound that needs to heal, but loves the exposure.
The road forks now. My path was never quite clear to begin with. But this is new. The rain has managed to wash away with my foot prints in the dirt road. But somehow, a few are in my lungs now and I remember what they sounded like with every breath I exhale. It's haunting. The road behind me is straight, yet I fear I will get lost somewhere in the past if i turn back now.
Last night I had a vision of a circular saw being driven into the face of some man on his back. It was almost like a child ripping off the legs of a captured insect or burning it alive with the instrument of magnifin-sent-death. The blade was driven across the eyes, and the splatter of red shot my eyes open. They're so open to the dark now. There is pain involved.
There are other "visions" but not as interesting. There are other "visions" but a little too strange.
And I sneak through crevices. And I've become small enough.
Am I like them?
Those who mourn and turn away
Those who would give anything
To see you again
If only for another second
-Surjeet (is not the right name, but it's the first name that comes to mind)