Friday, March 11, 2016 10:12 PM
5/6/13
this sense of fatigue,
it overwhelms.
a murky fog over one's head,
wet, heavy cotton on one's eyelids,
forcing them shut.
yet she struggled on,
pushing against that dense wall that clouded
her mind and consciousness, deadening
each action such that a simple pushing
of the buttons on her keyboard was nearly beyond her.
one. keystroke. at. a. time.
forging on, she almost wondered what it was all for
but caught herself in time.
one must never question why:
it is the most poisonous of questions
that can overturn any notion of productivity.
and productivity, that was the whole point of her existence wasn't it?
one. keystroke. at. a. time.
for it is but one more step through life,
and one more step to dying.
10:11 PM
5/4/13
when no one would believe me, you did.
you reached out your hand to me, no,
you grabbed it, not caring whether i wanted your grasp or not.
and you reeled me in to shore
you patched me up, pointed out the right path,
and walked with me a little ways.
handed me over to caring hands,
down a pathway marked with your light.
yes, even in those shadows,
your light shone through,
a beacon through the dense undergrowth.
now i am safe and sound,
forging ahead, buoyed by my own strength;
a little patchwork doll, sewn together with your hope and skill.
but the debt has caught up with you and
your star grows ever dimmer.
what is a doll without its owner,
you, who gave me life anew.
i pray that your star will burn on,
but fuel is short and the nights grow ever colder.
i know i should let you go, not keep you here, suffering.
but how can i say goodbye when you are going in my place?
10:10 PM
Some days,
I wonder about the carving knife,
Sitting pretty in its wooden block,
And how it would feel
Against my flesh,
As it kisses my kidney and
Caresses my lungs
And traces the outline of my heart
As I sit and behold
The wonder that is creation,
Pouring forth in a fount
For dogs to lap at and
Go forth to rut.