Death does not necessarily involve the bleed
And the end does not necessarily mean
Our worlds will crumble.
We know not of our conscience
Or the creatures we ****
Murderers, masters of malevolence, we are.
Our inner light has faded long ago;
Remorse could not handle our actions
So he fled in the dead of night
With only our nightmares to cling to as a ********** of what is right
We create laws only to break them as we construct a chaos we can no longer control
We create children only to break them as we surround them with the filth that we have become
Shovelling ash into their lungs, as if subduing them with chemicals allows us to regain the influence that we have lost so long ago
And ever since that day we strive for some form of power
We bury our integrity like bombs beneath our homes shaking the foundation of a place laced with false security.
Earthquakes, hurricanes and tornados
An acceptance of disaster.
And it’s all in your mind.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 8:33 AM UTC
Whenever I’m in a car for a long period of time I always end up watching the road
You know those journeys that go on a lot longer than you expected and all you have to entertain yourself with is your iPod, which leaves your eyes with nothing to do other than scan the horizon or gaze down onto the tarmac while you zoom over it, the white lines blurring into the black as if it were a painter’s pallet blending perfectly to form a rainbow of tone,
I close my eyes and in my mind I pan out to view a city in its entirety, I always picture a tree-like form, stretching out, reaching, a never-ending strive for dominance over nature, as humans build more and more over the earth, suffocating the soil, making the trees cry out in pain as we cut off they’re food, I heard someone say with pride in they’re voice:
Roads are like to artificial veins of the land that pump the blood of people around so as to stay fluid and alive.
Alive? All I can see are the remnants of accidents. Smudges smeared, splayed all over the road. Skid-marks. Each skid-mark stands for a person that was a little too wrapped up finding a song on the radio, or a man rushing to the hospital so he can see his beautiful baby boy for the first time. Or maybe those skid marks stand for a car that lost control because the driver could not see the red light on account of his vision being blurry. Accidents. As if calling it an accident removes all blame, ‘It was no ones fault – it was a mistake/ an error/ a slip-up/ a mishap/ an oversight/ a miscalculation/ an inaccuracy/ a lapse/ an omission/ an accident.
What if the skid-marks are the pollution-covered fingerprints of god, left as memories, when he reached down into our atmosphere to cradle the souls of those whose time had passed.
Although this place if filled with death, its disturbing how most people do not give a second thought as they zoom over a graveyard, rushing past the last landscape some would ever see. Ignorant as to what has taken place. Most people look at roads as lifelines, the umbilical chords to the world around them, not as a weapon, used strangle the innocent people who just wanted to get home before rush hour hit.
Whenever I’m driving down the highway that takes me from home to you all I can see are the blood-covered corpses strewn all over, all I smell are the cancerous fumes radiating from the upturned cars surrounding me as if I were thrown in a junkyard, disregarded in spite of the life still diffusing through my bloodstream like I deserved nothing more than to rot and corrode in the dirt that now encompassed my body. All I can hear are the piercing screams ringing out of my nine year old carcass as I lay in a metal like box that had people stunned as to how anyone could survive. They said I was lucky, that I should be thankful.
Do these scars resemble some kind of fruit bearing vines, capable of bringing new life into this world?
Lightning strikes of judgment that have been forked into my forearms drawn by shards of glass that decided my milky white skin was missing a touch of red, as they carved a game of noughts and crosses into my skin. I was pulled out of that rubble; and guess what – no one won.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 8:13 AM UTC
It only took a moment
To feel whole again.
It landed swiftly and without warning
It wasn’t meant to be me – I was broken
It only took a moment
For me to witness its beauty.
The colours seemed to sway with every movement
Its ignorance of what I am was peaceful
It only took a moment
To make me believe again
In the goodness of the world
With every flap; every wink
It only took a moment
To make me forget.
I locked into position; I couldn’t make it leave me
Not something as delicate as this
It only took a moment
To feel its weightlessness
To notice its scale
It only took a moment
For time to stand still.
I wanted to live the rest of my life in this moment…
A noise.
A flinch
It left
Me
Alone.
I tried to stop it but it was out of my reach I couldn’t get
I panicked; it had to be mine and mine alone
No one else was allowed that moment – it wasn’t fair
No one else needed it as much as me;
No one else cared like I did.
Why would it leave me, when all I did was give my love
I was gentle and still – I meant it no harm.
Before I knew it I was screaming, hot salty tears were streaming
It only took that moment
For my world to become whole
Only to be shattered once more…
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 8:11 AM UTC
Faces pressed up against the windowpane of my soul
They are trying to peek into my life
All that they can see are the roses of innocence and the rainbows of happiness
They do not look close enough to see the snakes of betrayal that are coiled in camouflage around the stems of those roses
They do not pry long enough to understand that the wisps of clouds that float so closely to those bright rainbows are the white lies that have materialized to form and ocean of deception and I am drowning in the middle, stranded
No one stops by long enough to learn that the crumbling ruins that they admire so ardently for their barren beauty are the result of what a hardened heart looks like when it decides to break down the barriers it has hidden behind for so long
These faces are merely tourists; I should not be surprised when they leave me
I should expect it; I should accept it
Yet how can I accept the fact that I am merely considered to be an attraction, pretty to look at but easily forgotten. Why should I be the acting freak show that gets the round of applause yet when all is said and done and the families go home to their superficial lifestyles, I am left alone in a litter filled theatre sterile of trust and of friendship.
I only tell you these things now so that you may see
No one has ever bothered to get to know me
Until you
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 10:55 AM UTC