Sunday, May 4, 2014

raw, still, random

raw jigsaws of jagged edges of random "save-our-souls" drifting in from faraway linkages that linger as though they're still right next to me, inside me, knife my soul with bitter ironic scorn for all that there was, is, will be. i see everything, i accept everything. all i've done is to love, all i got back is bitterest scorn, denial and fear. i drift in all that is clear, heady, pure, consumed by the perfect now-here where i need nothing more, nothing less. to need is nothing, to dream is everything. in my perfect here-now, i still dream: dreams take the shape of my awful greedy desire spilling beyond here-now. the greed to connect, to validate, to know, finally. i look yonder, there, inside their warped universe and see a desire, too, but muddy, fragmented, tearing, torn and cut-up, the kind of desire that makes people go insane, the kind that curls in on its own essence, destructive and painful. so painful that it destroys itself, so destructive that to feel becomes painful. that is not where i want to be. that is not where i am. two months ago i left that space where i was bleeding, where i was bled, over and over and over again. now i'm drifting in my here-now of stillness, of waiting for the end, for the start of the eternity that will begin the day i will feel either the end of love, or the advent of love so all-consuming that nothing will be left of me. raw, i am, still.

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