and these walls are only a memory, I feel motivated to post an old poem I just found as I was moving precious shit into boxes.
Talk About Escapism
I feel the plants form my future
For a new outlook is all
it'll take not to fall
And I found it now
but manifest it how?
Find what you need
And for it plead
Become scared
Mission declared
Fight past feeling
Fuck the kneeling
Tell her what you feel
describe what's real
If it ain't her
Start over
But when life becomes good
You couldn't but you should
And so the mountains fail me
And something I've seen before I see
This time is perfectly planned
With coincidences that land
If life was like this forever
It may not be clearer
But my arms relax well
Even if in hell
With her body on mine
My life I'd enjoy fine
So where oh Lord
do you fit in?
Since God I know you listen
So hear me right fuckin now
I want to live out your mission
And though I'm confused
I'll look past the torment
A follower as Job
If only you'll let me be used
So know that Lord,
That I am deathly ready
To die by your sword
I can't help it however
if ruminations control me
And I'm blinded forever
I'm content to live/die like this
with one condition
that when her and I kiss
I will know you're not vexed
for if you are
I will always be surly depressed
And though I can't know you
as well as I'd like
I ask that she will get through
While humans may not understand
and though feelings of nuclear strife will follow,
You have the last command.
And though I may sin
And induce my own laceration
I believe in the Shroud of Turin
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And so just typing that out has me broken down. May of 2003 is what it was dated. It alludes to a host of multiple different ideas and actions that I knew would affect me and my mind into the distant future. Though I feel now that it was the beginning of the end of my "faith", at the time I was a slightly skeptical person but was also an obsessively devout Christian. Yet, slowly I dabbled in not living the Bible out in it's most literal sense. 2003 was a polarizing year for me where the seeds were laid to sow years of extreme despair.
It's disturbing the deepness we bury in our homes.. only to be uncovered by change, like an avalanche awaiting a shift the truth of these buried precious moments can come down on top of us harder than ever imagined...
ReplyDeleteThere is beauty however in the heaviness of words, especially ones that are as raw as this..