It mattered most when I least expected it...

I heard you whisper last week
your lips were pressed against my ear.
And even though the words have passed
the message is still clear.

It really meant something.
The calm one, the one with the reason…his tongue is raw with truth, and my ears bleed faith. My deft eyes claim certainty. It was well hidden between the curtain and the guillotine.

My devoted hands work tirelessly to articulate a minstrel's vow. The commission of such an act gives me a unique sense of purpose, and helps stave off the return of my old internal debate.

I am afraid to stop, my mind fraught with hindsight. Unsure if it will hold, I test the bindings.

Secure.



p.s. some speak in tides, others ride the waves in silence.

From the corner.

Always, they gather around the table.
Their hands clasp coffee cups
of different colors, shapes, and sizes.
Scattered before them plates hold sweets.
They arrive, each with beautiful minds
bounding exuberance, and cautious measure.
Another day and the scene may be festive,
music, cocktails, streamers, and balloons.
And another, somber
with their wondrous hearts saving the day.

Always, they are lovely to behold
and they graciously offer
the culmination of extraordinary lives.
They saunter in and take their usual place,
then spirit out again to live, work, love, and play.
Always offering their host a taste
of what that experience could be.
I walk among them undisturbed,
sharing the endeavor
with their glorious insight discerning the way.



Please keep that in mind for the times I when say I have heard enough and please carry on regardless of my shitty ass bad timing.



I am all but present and accounted for, and simply enraptured with the season…I am fucking giddy with this shit.


p.s. “tally-ho!”

Bury the hatchet.

I am fueled by provocation, currently deliberating my constitution.

The witness having brought to light new evidence, the accused pleads guilty on all charges pending. The defendant has been bound over for sentencing.

p.s. judge and jury, impartial. injunction exempt.

Ghost-imposed gag order.

You want this straight?

Then you have to be willing to hear me out, and that means all of it. You can not pick and choose the verse; the ugly shit has got to ring in your head too. The things that I say that cling to your clothes like mildew, the stench entrenched, leaving you filthy.

What is the matter? You can’t wash it off? Well, neither can I.

I repeat myself so much these days that the truth is often lost in the mix. Say it, say it again, and again. You try it and see how well rehearsed you can be. Sometimes I change my mind, and you use it against me. You will tuck it away, and bring it out for a later date, only to make me eat shit and lie.

And you will use it against me.
Tuck it away for a later date,
only to make me eat shit...

Setting aside my own, to honor yours.

p.s. it can hit the fan tomorrow.

Space

Let me get the door for you.



p.s. my hand is there, reach for it.

A little rough around the edges…

I have not yet entered into a static free zone. Buzz, buzz, buzz…my head is ready to fucking split. I asked him if it still mattered at all.

I am waiting for his reply.

I have been half way around my brain with this shit, and it just keeps coming up the same. And I am repeating myself, here in the dark, not quite alone.

In time.

p.s. patience please, my lovelies...I am listening.