Fog.
An obscure mist, blocking the view.
What will become of me, him, her, you?
Opaque and unsettling the future has become.
Curiosity peaks and settles happily under thumb.
While I insist on crushing its bones and pressing its blood.
I know only one thing is sure amidst this vague tedium...
Whatever comes to pass or why...
I will embrace it, chest to chest, eye to eye.
I will make love to it, heart to heart, thigh to thigh.
I will remember it.
Should misfortune befall me.
I will smile.
Fearing not long periods of turmoil.
If anything, misery makes me shine brighter.
It encourages me to laugh.
Fate is fate.
Why fight her?
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
I am the words here, written in pen.
I am words you hear recited in your head.
I am this and that at the same time.
I am a hundred hammers making a rhyme.
The shout that never raises its voice.
The scream that cannot contend with all of the white noise.
The immobile rock that will not hear a sound.
The never ending ticking of a clock counting down.
I am measured in madness.
I am forgotten before found.
I am hope, hopeful, hopeless, hopelessness.
I am a square that is round.
The challenge put before us all.
The sharpened pencil, ready to draw.
The countless times someone was kind.
The ugly bat, not deaf, but blind
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC