I have lived a million years, or so it
seems right now. I have seen
everything there is to see, or so my heart
feels this moment. I am tired, I
want no more of living and motion,
or so my legs tell me, weary of their
wandering. There is nothing left,
nothing I want to see, nothing I want to do,
nothing I want to feel, nothing
I want to experience. Or so my spirit
would have me believe: that it has
expended its last and has no more
to give, that it will not last the day.
And there I lie, curled up and naked
on the floor, wondering why I was born
at all, if it is only to come to this,
if it is only to despair at life.... My
window is open, and outside is the world.
The wind carries in the song of a
sparrow, and then a rain washes down,
drumming the pavement below
in a rhythmless percussion. Suddenly,
I long for something I cannot name,
and I rise to that window, to the
storm growing outside: I sense life
happening all around me: birth, death, love,
hate, wonder, boredom, creation,
destruction. Destiny is often disguised
as ordinary circumstance — this I
realize like a new heaven and a new
earth; and I awake from a lifetime's sleep.
me?!
5:55am tuesday, 23rd september
Guess too many are still sleeping ..
x
6:57pm tuesday, 23rd september
Like the line about the rain drumming the pavement in rhythmless percussion.
caintheexile
5:40pm monday, 20th october
When I broke, time damn near stopped, and I was trapped in the most destructive introspection for what seemed like infinity. Each half hour felt like a month, and yeah, I feel old. Ancient. I'm 23! Jesus. What can you do. Brilliant poem.
me?!
x
caintheexile