Languor
In my Doldrum…
This shallow of ennui
I won’t come ashore until I catch a big wave
To him whose demons are cathartic to my own
That we may both be awash.
Burnt to a cinder
Ideas are matches They light fires in spaces devoid of reason and dismissive of logic The idea of a person will haunt those spaces long after the reality shows you different You created your hearts desire then you kept it in memoriam when it couldn't withstand the light You told yourself "How could it not be perfect still?" And then you stood aside as it bled into all that was good about you When it seeped into the carpet and made the tear stained patches crackle and pop You told yourself "Everything that's worth something hurts" You ran along side it as it streamed into the gulleys that fed your spirit And it poisoned you. Poisoned you into a mere shadow of yourself... And still you told yourself "If I could come this far then it must be mine" And then you blew away... Burnt to a cinder by smoke and mirrors
Wow. I'll let that sink in.
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