self

The stars fell from their concrete pits and burned holes in my empty eyes. All imagination blurred into nothing.

I stopped.

The screws turned on and a new form of life that exists in the horizons of never entered my consciousness. Clever me, I stopped my heartbeat and switched off the pulsars that quivered inside.

I can no longer hide.

Bury my hatchets in the sand, grand visions gone as the dunes blow themselves to smithereens. It’s a careening type of dream that does not stop, but instead bleeds forth forever into the empty sea.

No push and pull of the tides, they no longer strum a glissando of harmony. It’s just me. I do not miss the discordant music.

I used to yearn.

Today the clocks stopped ticking their madness and the pitiful play of pretence danced, daringly close to the edge of the stage… I am no longer really here at all.

I no longer fall.

Instead I call upon my pasts to manifest my present into a hardened future. A solid mass of distance that floats where the sky once washed upon a shore of fiery water. I used to bathe my body in the redness, the madness of caring.

Fearing to walk a robotic pace, a graceless mess of glitter spilled into the space I knew I should occupy. But today that has changed, and I grind my cogs into myself anew.

I don’t care that I am an alien existence, on this planet of feeling. I don’t want to feel anything. I just want to walk.

I no longer stumble, instead I tumble forgetting back into the blackness where it belongs. These songs are just mechanical anyway.

I pray to the void, and it offers its emotions of darkness.

This is where I feel safe.

And so I live again.