I’m feeling an awful lot and I don’t necessarily have the
vocabulary or focus of mind to get it all across in a smooth and dynamic way.
My heart is aching. I’m complexly filled with rectangular hearts and
oval thoughts, which don’t fit into any of their holes, all twisted and
miss-shaped, some distorted and others fractured, floating in space, in random
alignments to their homes, from where they came, out of me.
I’m lost in all this confusion and loss of succinct stable placement of
things. The randomness shatters my thoughts into little tiny bits that slip
through the fingers of my mind and pass over the ceiling of my brain and into
my clouds, the clouds that I create with a haze, with a potion of love that I
take, while numbing myself to all pain.
Where can I plant my feet, solid in compact tight mud that will house me, my foundations, firmly in the ground, out of which I could grow, so tall
and confident, moving in one, the only one direction possibly good for me:
towards the sun, towards the sky, whereto my fingers reach…up…and up, until I
die.
But I am not this tree; I am not on as simple a journey. I’ve been given
the freedom of feet and one of four directions which within to move, divided
and multiplied by my mind into a million possible possibilities possible.
I’m divided, into a million
different humans with a million different minds all thinking differently than
the other.
And I see them all, though not a single one clearly.
No comments:
Post a Comment