Friday, March 29, 2013

I wear a torn place on my sleeve || A thief

Behold, I will do something new,
  Now it will spring forth;
  Will you not be aware of it?
  I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
  Rivers in the desert.


Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation...

I wear a torn place on my sleeve.
It isn't as simple as that.

A thief

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

blood

in

my

mouth

in my hands

nails

in my hands

darkpainbloodblackingoutheartbeat

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

i am not afraid to die

just let me die now

throw me in an unmarked grave like the rest

rest

i need rest

no one will remember my name

to be honest, i'm glad. i'm not a good person

blacking out again

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

memory and other things i don't need

sound and other things i don't want

beside me another forgotten

forgetful

what am i called again?

a thief?

a murderer?

a man?

there's another one beside me, wetting

me with his

black black black no air

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

words

words

i have no use for words

why are you speaking

you foolish

what do they call you?

i don't even remember my name

let alone who you are

ogodogodogod letmedienowpleaseletmedie

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

you are a fool

my brother

you are a fool

do you remember what you did to end up here?

i don't.

yes i do.

i can see the faces

don't you remember too, my brother?

and the one

the one in the center center center i can't

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

i ask nothing of you

i have nothing i can ask you for

you who chose this

bloodbreathsourwineburningbloodbloodblood

i did not choose it

i do not regret it

what else could have been done me?

i would bow before you

but all i can do is struggle against these

nailsnailsnails

to say

rip

rrrrrip

breath

out

o LORD

remember me

when YOU

enter

YOUR

KINGDOM

for i will never see you again

but you will judge my soul

stretching up trying to

breatheagainstnails

will i ever

see

you

again

.
.
.

                       out




Paradise finds its existence.
(to be continued)

(Isaiah 43:19, Anais Nin's Henry and June, and W.S. Merwin's The Nails provide the epigraph.)

No comments: