A poetic ramble.
I’m broke. Couldn’t get much lower than I am. Feeling the ice creeping up my spine. I just want to feel alive again. The only place I feel alive is among the dead. When I enter into a cemetery, I feel more alive than in a crowd of people. I feel the dead live life more vibrantly than the living. Because they understand what it means to lose one’s hold in this world. To lose at the game of life.
Their cold and see through touch, comforts me more than a mothers kiss. Those old bones just sparkle like diamonds to me. The glow of their spectral aura lights the darkness up behind my eyes. When I look into the eyes of death… I see my way out of all of this pain. All I see is the next adventure and the start of a new life. But this Judas of a body just won’t die. It still keeps breathing and getting up in the morning. Perpetuating the cycle of drama, dualities, and pain.
Oh the duality of life. The constant desire for death, and the persistence of life. I love and I hate this world. But I hate this world even more because you are not in my life bubble. I can not see you, because you are surrounded by black mist. So black that even the Source had to squint to try to see you.
There is no solace for me here. There are no passionate kisses in my bed. Just a pillow encrusted with diamonds. No riches for the poor. Only crystalline tears and heaving sobs. I just beg for your forgiveness. And for your return like the prodigal son, and I accept you with open arms. Despite the bucket loads of tears that pay for nothing but more tears. I need you. I love you. I would die for you…..