So small a matter.
I lie hunted and crouched, in this dark corner of existence… by slick, merciless, blood-shot loneliness.
I perceived two faces today, an unseen one tattling, and a guilty one confronted. The tattler confounds me for its (seeming) pre-meditation; the guilt-ridden from its inability to transmit comfort (what it seemed to want to offer). I writhe in this corner and the air spatters me with nameless emotions that jerk around and squeeze my being.
So small a matter.
Months… yes, after months, I suddenly remember dying… dying back in those times when matters weren't so small. Being near-dead is hard work, full of suffering.
That’s what people do to you, even those as insignificant as lunch-time friends, few month old passers-by.
And haha… So. Small. A matter.
Perhaps…. That’s why nature comforts. It never says anything. It never deludes you into a comfort zone and later jerk you around. It doesn’t lie. It doesn’t fuckin’ lie.
April 1st, 2010.
I suddenly remember dying… dying back in those times when matters weren't so small. Being near-dead is hard work, full of suffering.
ReplyDeleteYou are the voice.