that you end up choking it?
Grabbing it with cold, big hands and then
twist with your mind closed?
No, no.
The mind does it.
Clinically dissecting the corpse with
the scalpel of reason.
Carving out slitting shapes in the warm skin
blood pours forth in gushes.
stem the flow with pure pity.
The tears will fall
and in a salty sea drown out the numbing pain.
Tell yourself you'd never regret
the words of a million centuries that lay unspoken.
If things were done with honesty,
a lot of things would make sense.
If truth coloured the world, it would a monochrome.
The half truths paint it gray
and the lies, a brilliant rainbow.
The cries will turn to hisses in the darkness.
The void swallows it all down.
Running on a drug called pain,
running with the fear of being caught
and the fire to never lose.
It burns out the person inside.
Makes the chains stronger.
However further we go, the chains drag us back.
Don't hurt yourself, she whispered.
Don't stab yourself over the shame.
There's no shame if you don't think you are wrong.
There's no shame in the pain of truth.
Clear and clean. Water cleanses it all down and melts them all into dirt.
Out at sea even a shudder can be an earthquake.
Not alone, Don't fret.
Why not?
We die alone.
What's the point then?
Love in a life that's at a moment's notice.
Really is it all that worth?
Stop judging what you don't know.
Getting to a place that's comfortable.
That's existing.
We're so caught up in that.
No time no time! Throw it all in the flurry of a passing passion.
It's all a game and everyone's losing!
Not a moment's grace and everything leaves as it comes.
Nothing lasts. Nothing should.
Nothing stays. Some things should.
But they never do.
Time, Tide, Love wait for no one.
Everything has it's limits.
And everything shouldn't.
The limit is the sky but the limit binds us down in thought.
Not perspective. It changes into a silent nothingness as you ascend.
Don't fear the mirror. It only shows what is solid.
If everything was solid, feeble shoulders would crack under mountainous burdens.
In some parallel world it probably is all possible.
To concepts and dreams like holding up a placard.
There'll be a formula for love
and music would lose it's meaning.
It would all be a theorem and everyone would be happy from
their Birth unto Death.
If everything was solid.
We'd give each other blocks or triangles to show our feelings.
I wonder where they'd come from.
Would we collar our feelings around with a lock at our throats holding us to people and things?
Would we ever hand over the keys to someone who has their own lock?
We would ultimately for our own pervertedly justified reasons.
and we'd give it a name and seal it down with hot wax.
Memories that are vague and watch them float out the car window as the air ruffles our hair.
We are ourselves only in our mind's eye because to us we're solid.
We're just a perspective.
A point of view.
We're just a concept.
Can you fall in love with a concept?