I’m sitting here thinking I should have something to say. It’s Sunday. A good meal in my belly. A few glasses of wine. It is time.
The words – they do not come. I expect a lot of memories, or emotion, or something. But nothing. Little or nothing.
Then I wonder – is this a good thing? I do feel a particular emotion, or desire, or urge. But not a strong desire to document what ever fills my head.
I guess I’m tired. Tired of all the emotion, thoughts, planning, re-planning, and more planning.
You see, things never work out as you have planned. Things never go according to plan.
One thing is for sure. Desire. A desire that does not seem to end. I wonder, however, if desire alone is enough.
I worry that desire alone is not enough.
Today I heard an old song I’ve heard many times before. For some odd reason I just sat there and listened to the words. I sat there and though, Yeah. Yep. Yeah.
A year from now you will forget me.
A year from now that won’t upset me.
And I thought, is that where I am? Is that where this is destine to be?
Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I knew. I wish I could say. I wish I could say.
There was a day when everything was so clear. So clear.
Now reality sets in. There is a reality to this. I feel as if I had acted already reality would be different. But I’m a pussy and I sat on the situation and let it fester. I let it right itself. Or try to right it itself. Part of me regrets that. Part of says it’s the right thing to do. And there is the part that says happiness is more important that being right.
Then there is the part that says – happiness should be right. So why don’t they come packaged together? I don’t know.
So, I guess in the end I had words. I probably have more and they will come. But I need to rest now. Rest….
In the meantime, know this, all is well – all is good. Don’t worry about the festering wound that is covered up. All wounds heal.
I find I’m spinning on my back across the floor,
I try to stay still but there’s no stopping,
I feel your gravity wake in my blood,
I reel across the room and blackout, this is love.
One of these days I’ll hollow out my whole heart with my hands,
I will take these broken bones, rebuild myself a man.
Take these fetters, I’ll hammer them together for a soul,
But I’ll be lost with the coming of your first breeze.
I try to run away, a pack across the town.
I hide, desire is a heartless hunter.
I feel the trajectory mapped in my blood,
I wheel around your feet and blackout, this is love.
One of these days I’ll hollow out a pencil with my hands,
I will take a fountain pen and build myself a mast.
Take these letters, I’ll stitch them together for a sail,
But I’ll be back with the coming of your first breeze.
I find I rocket through the crowds above the ground,
I’d lie in wait for you but can’t stop moving.
I yield to the roaring that’s been coursing through my blood,
I kneel, give up my ghost and blackout, this is love.
One of these days I’ll be watching while and apple hits the ground,
I will wait till the earth accepts the seed and takes it down,
Somewhat better I will understand why gravity is law,
And I’ll be lost with the coming of the spring season.
Desire’s only chemistry and Love a form of gravity,
Neurons twitch and flicker like the box that switches traffic lights.
My soul is a black snake a boy lit on the sidewalk,
It curls a twist and spitting sparks tills ash across the ground.
One of these days I’ll hollow out my whole heart with my hands,
I will take these broken bones, rebuild myself a man.
Take these fetters, I’ll hammer them together for a soul,
But I’ll be lost with the coming of the blackout, this is love.