Sometimes I feel this one vessel can't contain all these experiences, all these emotions.
This one trip isn't enough
This one guy isn't enough
This one life isn't enough

What then?
A higher peace?
A believing remedy?
Blind blind apathy.

I try. I tried. I became. I become.
I'm a fool. A servant. I'm a slave to these emotions.
They turn on me like the light from the atoms in the night sky.

What are these?
These experiences.
What is their mount?
What is their worth.

I try to desert the hurt then thwart the pain..but of course it enters through the memorized corners of my gaping heart.
It swallows my pleasure, happiness, reason to be until there's just a silence.  Desparate acceptance.
Yes. Yes. I'm a willing slave of this pain.
What else can you call a non-doer.

Cecelia was right.
Indecision is decision.

                                                      ­            *s.q.

What is life but the silence in between the silence.

                                                                  *s.q.