Peeling


Your bed fails

Your reality melts

You freeze

You can only look down


The tame tempered person you once were replaced by a blind, blithering wretch

So ghastly as to be neither felt nor seen

To disprove Plato and light the path ahead of you

Only to see the roses and holly become dense


You must go

You cannot stop the march of time

And every second it get closer and closer

The past is already ahead, do not become third on the pedestal to your future


Yet as you walk those vines prick and pierce

No armor nor shield can hide the little hits

The ones that will stay with you for years to come

They will fester and feed until you cannot make sense of this new normal


Those scars can be hidden

You can wear all the coverings you want

You can make it so that no one will ever know how hard you fought

You can let those victories be forgotten


Hide your strength

Make all know you are as innocent as a starving Adam

Show them that you are comfortable with peace

Like you never fought at all


Make them think that it is all on the table

That everything you have experienced can be retold with a fondness of faded glory

Be your own biographer, editor, and publisher

And watch as those shelves stay stocked


Destroy the trust/mutual experience barrier

Let all your acquaintances know what your soul is

Turn everyone into acquaintances

Become a social Marxist and destroy your friendship hierarchy


A mirror can help in this crisis

A horror awaits upon eye contact

But that is your only companion

You must continue this journey alone


Do not believe everything you have seen

Nightmares and dreams are created out of an already prevailing emotion

Your headlong charge into fear will be viewed like Leonaidas

You will be remembered by those who you want to remember you


What you will find will frighten you

And it may have already been found by others

But you will know how to value that treasure

And make it become your mantle's pride



48 views

Recent Posts

See All

Love

sweet simple Love. that type of Love you come home to, the Love you feel when grandma pulls a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven when you dip your greedy teeth as you take in that s