to carry the weight of loved ones
with their golden hopes and leaden limitations
an alchemist of dreams
with a concrete heart of indestructibility
and the type of love that is quiet,
and solid (foundation.)
there's always a line in the sand
between the then and the now;
how regrettable it is to have to be the one to draw it.
downstairs, we have newcomers.
across, they have settled.
us... we are ignoring the inevitable uprooting
of our hard-won memories.
My vessel of possibility
drowns me opportunity.
no not creeping--
frothing and spilling forth from the soul.
abandon the ship and your cargo, ye slavers...
inspired by jmw turner and reflections of a particular moment of insanity
sometimes I cocoon myself
in pastel memories of
with that fuzzy blanket and that stuffed animal
I get wistful
and then reality jolts me
out of reverie
it was never an us thing
it was always a me with you thing
that old blanket provided no comfort
it clung to me
wrapping its frayed corners around my ankles
that cute little stuffed thing was not
a relic of happier times
it was a reminder
of all of the ****** up things in your head
which swirled around the dark
and crept toward me;
under that heavy blanket
no drugs needed; the tempo sends me into a tailspin of bliss.
a frightened ear would perceive a dirge but
to the acquainted
it can only be a hymn.
written in a doom metal haze after subjecting myself to hours of homework