Warm in a thick sweet blanket of fury we watch the stage wondering out loud: "do you think he's really happy?" I'm content in a fast-food fast action playground, as other lucid numbers walk past me in blurry-eyed succession. We greet each other politely, as temporary distractions, forgetting names as quickly as faces. Routinize the matter-of-fact as we patch the same holes we dig deeper.
I want to feel whole again, but was I ever really whole? Probably not but thats neither here nor there. A God shaped vacuum plagues my heart and given a shot, I'd like to make it bigger. To cut from my flesh the metaphysical state of transmission. Passing through a barrier to insult the next is like peeling flesh open to expose the root and upon finding it spitting to soak the wound.
I always knew I'd find this place. I kind of never knew when, but hitting the solid stone at the end of the well is the only place the water stops. I'll drown in the slow dripping eventually, as the even drops eventually steal my stillness.
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