Thursday, April 30, 2015

a bullet's music.

with hope misplaced in a longing,
this longing a somatic twitch, i travel to a light

that only appears bright.

it is not at the end of a hallway.

something else
is at the end of a hallway. i'm being walked there
by trustworthy sources.

there is shit in my way.

in the hallway,
i feel threatened by criminally insane fuck-ups,
(it appears i am not one of them,)
threatening my sense of fear

that i occasionally acknowledge i learn from.

out of everything, fear is most in the way.
its logistics seem no longer relevant.

a criminally insane person is easy to fall for
when you have it in your dna.

two hundred criminally insane people at once
are easy to fall for
whether it is in my dna or not.

i take criminally insane people into my train of thought,
like suitors who are equally curious.

a fresh batch of thoughts are being entertained.
they are entertained by pain.

i do not seem interested in restraining myself
from accepting ideas

whether the crawl up under my skin
or drop on my tongue like a first snowfall.

it's christmas. i better open christmas presents.

i continue to be walked through the hallway
by the same trustworthy people.

this story was what the spirits presented to me
last night.
before i fell to sleep, i asked them what it was, exactly,
that they wanted from me.

there is something. do they need it, maybe?
i told them i was interested in seeing.

in the longing i see a ghost.
i see i have made myself sick with longing.

all is at once.

at the other end of the hallway continues to be
all which is all at once.

at some point i bow my head.