Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Two Year Old Bottled Ghost World

From the belly of the beast I was reborn in the crease of the devil’s street. I was born with sin’s indebted by samsara. I was afraid to build relationships to live in because everyone stops breathing. I protected my self by building walls of regrets and refused to move close to anyone that had a heart. The bass of their heart caused me to tremble. And if they climbed the walls while I was not looking, immediately I would give them a Machavelian push to step on their heart to catapult me over any foreseeable obstacle. Water length guilt filled my soul that I constantly felt like I was drowning in my own sorrows.

Every night I would fall into an alcohol induced coma only to be awaken by the reality of my nightmares. Careless mysteries never tempted me to come out of my shell. I was content with the pain that I was sustaining because I felt that I deserved it. If, I could have exchanged breaths with him and my firstborn on their death bed I would have laid my life down at their feet. But, I was incapable of such sacrifices. After they fell asleep I burnt my skin with the memories clothed in his words, shadows of his smile, and his or her firsts.

Day in and day out, I lived for eight years as a city nomad. There was not a heart that I wanted to trust. Until one day the city introduced me to a love that I was unable to ignore. It turned my world upside down and rolled my lifeless body over and breathed life into me. hEr essence whistled through my nose and I woke up and saw an image that resembled my father. This is the day that I decided that impermanence is impermanent. Life is forever changing and if I live with the desire of the past I will remain the age that I was when I buried my father. Time is has no mercy on man. And I should not have mercy on time.

Tales of the crypt no longer course the streets of my mind. I walk the alleys of my consciousness and embrace those who live lonely in cardboard mansions. The space in between my heart and my mind is reserved for those who want to help me expand said space to the point my physical body can no longer take the pressure. They will find neither pleasure or pain taking the pressure and BEing with me. The blues do not fill my eyes. The weight from under my eyes fall short of holding me down. I was baptized in the gutter of her stomach and my colorless skin peeled off like dead snake skin. A love scripture was sketched on the surface of my heart. I had to translate it to my mind. I didn’t want to later be lost in translation. With this word imbedded in my existence the drunk ghosts are bottled up. Today marks the day 2years ago that they began to swim everywhere, but here.

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