She saw her life flash before her eyes
Even the dark chapter containing a swift demise
Furry sank in
As she grew uncomfortable in her own skin
Everything was supposed to turn out alright
Not flutter away like some unhinged kite
This man was supposed to be the epitome of desire
A person others could admire
There shouldn't have been any indecision
They were to merge in an act of fission
And So it appeared for fifty long days
Then in disintegrated in the reflected glimpse of a bong's haze.
In the days filled with vacant eyes
Lost in the timid nature of hollow lies
A man was left too corrupt to realize
The exact root of his own demise
Blanketed in the emotions of doom
He forges his self made tomb
Leaving behind a dimly lit room
And the portrait of a family cartoon
Enchanted contentment of a real delirium
Non complex conundrum in regards to our steps
Skipping somberly beneath an insatiable sky
this fork in the road meets me
take the left or turn to the right
the one less travelled or the one worn down
i'm just glad that the choice is mine
i'm just glad to be standing here
so what if this should be the end?
if i could call on inspiration any time i want
this might not be the end of my journey
if i could wring out all that has been encased deep within my heart
this might not be the demise of my determination
i hope you can see that some day
maybe i have come to the limit of myself
you wanted to see me reach ever higher
but i've already got more
more than what i could have ever wished for
you say this cannot be the end of my time
but this is what i have to say
i've borrowed more than what i've been promised
i've been given a lifetime and two
where all that i've got is more than what i have ever needed
and who is to say that i haven't lived at all
when all that i've ever done is what i wanted
nothing more
and certainly, nothing less
you insisted that i write my number down on the blank part of a mix tape...you used to slam down a beer like some kind of super hero...saw myself in your eyes and made sounds only you could hear...you'd press your lips into my forehead so fiercely it hurt; leading us deep into your distortions...
witnessed you spilling your soul into empty barrooms where last call came well before midnight...there wasn't any room in there for me...i made forfeit everything to stand in your arms; and how it lost me all i wanted...
spread my palms wide across your ribs...curled my fingers tightly toward your spine and believed, believed that you loved me...your dad was impressed that i went to Harvard, which pissed you off...so you left me...i wanted to clumsily strew myself on your pillows and press my hand on your thigh, kiss your neck and giggle at your sarcasm...you convinced me that the flood of my insecurities drove you away, that i was the author of our demise...
we collide rarely...your eyes are always tired...you've built the Berlin wall around your heart...you have become a testament to the passage of time because i know i will not remember being the same...you inappropriately love me but will never trust me...
you stand me in your arms, and it is like coming home after so many years abroad; we never will hold each other this way again...
our Rome became graffiti on my bedroom wall...an homage to a past, carried along the weary advancement of years...this undertow of wordshed always reminding me that i am not lost but i am not home...
I fell in love
a thousand times
as your light shines
within my eyes.
but I must imply
of its demise
heartache arises
as you pass me by
Born you are to sing,
Turbid future beckoning
And your past, it seems, is urging,
This new melody emerging
Circumscribed by your death,
Consecrated from first breath,
This perpetual contortion,
Your vociferous misfortune,
Is the sonorous reprisal to the silence and the night
In seraphic orchestration,
Past is settled, future sanctioned,
Though a voice belongs to you,
It is through harmony construed,
But these manifold vibrations,
Every violent incantation,
Every note new sung must blossom, languish,
Meet oblivion
Now your open wound is bleeding,
Life's full bloom, with haste, receding,
Each maenadic spasm leads you,
Supersedes you,
Life begins again,
So if a myriad of mellifluous moments multiplies,
Anticipate its inhumation 'neath the sediment of time,
For as the song to flourish wills each note meet its demise,
The singer is unravelled in a death he lives, but can't surmise
Grasped by my circumstances
Yet not exhausted by them
In time, this inscrutable movement
I find my freedom and demise
Death is but the beginning
of our never ending lives.
Fear not you sweet soul
We all live but a thousand times.
Death is insidious
Death is wise
But Death,
death is not kind.
We all face our death
before our demise.
Each and every day we swallow our pride,
we all die a little inside.
Yet
Do not mistake death
for end of life.
For its not but
the giver of time.
© 2012 Christina Jackson
I beat myself up for hurting
Decide not to procrastinate
And decide to implement that
Wonderful decision later
Later
when my pen is dry
And my eyes
Fall out of my head
To watch my self-inflicted
Demise.
*
Will anyone ever read this?
Let me invite you inside my head
You would be the only welcome visitor
Will you take my problems when you leave?
A parting gift
Apart from me your head is full
Of what you see
And so no one will EVER see things the way I do
And yet
Why
Do
I
Still
Try
?
***
