Dec 2014
I get to return to myself, a no one who did not even know what she was, whether it was constant change or stable constants. So we return to time. I have a figment in my mind of what it means to be whole though it has never been known to me.
I return to the heart that was me before I was holding onto it, trying not to lose it to the winds of people who claim themselves our masters. Far family and close friends, we all tend to play cruel games of replaying what we see.
I cannot be alone, which is to mean I am alone with myself. My nose is held in the air, insensitive to the scent of my own fear, even though it pervades, it permeates everything.
I have to relearn who I am but go deaf instead. All I know is being abandoned, first of all by me. They all merely repeated what I did.
So try now to hold onto empty air. It all falls apart though fairly quickly. My past lovers are haunting to dreams, when once kissed then speaking in minor rejections because it matters not anymore. Who I am, what I was, when I was that being of someone with them. They held my tongue and never really anything else. There is nothing to give away if I have myself not. And I tried so very hard to.
No one can really go back but we all restart again and again. This way we have no control over feelings which leave us broken down waiting for the next reboot and then resurface again, elapsing to the same old torture from before. And each time I am different for the river forgot me the moment I stepped out of her stream.
So in this vacuum what is to be known but this shape, it is all of me. Uncertain lines, constantly changing and shifting stable constants. The old voices did know even if they do not me. Regressive art is a following of reality that fades into a past, this distance not in existence.
Truth holds no choices and I seem devoid of the solution to desires. This force way too much pulling onto and imprinting it into me. I hang inside a pendulum unaware and unable of this changing which tried to **** itself by inviting others to invade her so fully.
I know, all I know, it is this: blank space. That all is really true. Nothing is ever solid.
© October 25, 2014
I return to the heart that was me before I was holding onto it, trying not to lose it to the winds of people who claim themselves our masters. Far family and close friends, we all tend to play cruel games of replaying what we see.
I cannot be alone, which is to mean I am alone with myself. My nose is held in the air, insensitive to the scent of my own fear, even though it pervades, it permeates everything.
I have to relearn who I am but go deaf instead. All I know is being abandoned, first of all by me. They all merely repeated what I did.
So try now to hold onto empty air. It all falls apart though fairly quickly. My past lovers are haunting to dreams, when once kissed then speaking in minor rejections because it matters not anymore. Who I am, what I was, when I was that being of someone with them. They held my tongue and never really anything else. There is nothing to give away if I have myself not. And I tried so very hard to.
No one can really go back but we all restart again and again. This way we have no control over feelings which leave us broken down waiting for the next reboot and then resurface again, elapsing to the same old torture from before. And each time I am different for the river forgot me the moment I stepped out of her stream.
So in this vacuum what is to be known but this shape, it is all of me. Uncertain lines, constantly changing and shifting stable constants. The old voices did know even if they do not me. Regressive art is a following of reality that fades into a past, this distance not in existence.
Truth holds no choices and I seem devoid of the solution to desires. This force way too much pulling onto and imprinting it into me. I hang inside a pendulum unaware and unable of this changing which tried to **** itself by inviting others to invade her so fully.
I know, all I know, it is this: blank space. That all is really true. Nothing is ever solid.
© October 25, 2014
