tread

tread Apr 2013

home is where the heart is and my heart isn't 'home.'

I woke up late last night during
a storm. It was my first night
home from Europe, and I
began panicking as I
attempted to recall
what country I
was in, what
city, what
hotel,

what time, what date?
I realized where I was
after a moment. And
I realized I wished I was
somewhere else because
home is over. Home has
been over for a very long
time.

exclamation mark for 'panic!'

tread Apr 2013

inexplicable to death.

I look at myself in the mirror
and feel ashamed. I look at
myself in the mirror and
wonder why I'm so
ashamed.

I talk loudly and write in
desperation, trying to
drown out the
shame.

Trying to drown it
out before it
drowns
me.

I don't know if I'd ever commit suicide, seeing as I'm going to die anyway.
I call it 'inexplicable' because I have no rational reason to feel the way I do. My life is good. Amazing, really.
If anyone has suggestions on how to deal with all this, it would be much appreciated.

tread Apr 2013

the last testament

and the whisper clapped.

the whisper clapped to
dawns arrival.

the whisper clapped
to dusks departure.

the whisper clapped
to the arrival of sound
waves laughing like angry
distances in mad consort,
as if schizophrenics heard
words spoken millions of
years ago on far off planets
long since devoured by
exploding supernovas,
the sound waves only
reaching us now in the
same way we see ancient
stars, long since having
devoured the speaking
races in the inevitable
movement of cosmic
breath.

and the whisper wondered;
what was the last word
spoken by
God?

you wouldn't know.

Every Testament was
heard and written by a
solitary schizophrenic
of long past, seen as
holy mystics speaking
the language of heaven.
Now these mystics are
madmen shooting ******
in rainy, grey alleyways.
God died long ago and his
last whisper was heard
within the confines of a
mental asylum just outside
of São Paulo, Brazil. We
weren't paying attention.
We missed the Last
Testament.

tread Apr 2013

train to

When did it occur to
me that I wasn't okay?
When did it occur to me
that I was? When did 'it'
occur? What is 'it'? What
occurred? What does it
mean to 'occur'? What
does it mean to wonder
what it means to 'occur'?
When did any of this matter?
Is any of this 'matter'? What
is 'matter'? What is what?
What? Pardon?

"Excuse me sir, this
is your stop."

Constant departure, always
arriving.

Constant departure, always
*arriving.

tread Apr 2013

walking on the wheel

Weary, I'm not trying
very often. Not trying
not to try. I try too hard.
Fallen like the poor *******
who stood still on a moving
treadmill. I stopped to ask
why I was on the treadmill.
Stopped to inspect the
treadmill. Stopped, and
now my leg is stuck.

tread Apr 2013

Amanda.

Etymology,

                  Spanish.

  First appeared

      on a gravestone

             in Warwickshire, England.

       Means:

         'loveable,'

                      'have to be loved,'

                                         'deserving of love.'

All technicalities aside,
I'm not with you for your
name. That'd be like saying,

'I'm here for the free cheesecake,*
but make sure it calls itself a cheesecake,
because I trust cheesecake, but not the
moon when it questions my insanity.
Frightens me with the prospect of a
normal life.'

I haven't found the answer yet.
I haven't been looking. I've been
too busy loving you, until one day
I woke up and realized 'its always
in the last place you look.' I'd been
nuzzled in your chest for hours
before I noticed I'd found the
most important meaning
in life.

Amanda.

Etymology,

             Spanish.

        First appeared on a gravestone

                  in Warwickshire, England.

Means:

                'loveable,'

                             'have to be loved,'

                                              'deserving of love.'

tread Apr 2013

hong kong

Nobody believes me
when I tell them how
lonely I am.

Not even me.

weird head loops; I can't always trust myself but I always pull through. I am haunted by an inexplicable shame for nothing.