A pulse, the only music,
the one constant, that is known.
Why doesnt it too, leave?
Like me, its all alone.
Deep, beneath realms of normalcy,
unsettling pity, boil and seethe.
Memories pelt, arising around,
ridiculing my choice, to breathe.
Pictures and notes, how ironic and cruel,
each began with a spark, never ending hope.
Now, taped scraps, mangled and course,
images and words, now razor sharp.
A footprint, inflicted within,
now a plaster cast, hanging overhead.
Ever present, but now visible,
fully defining, inevitable dread
Shouts, in exclamations,
loudly scrolled, at every view.
Unlove, yes the only love,
and untruths, that became true.
the one constant, that is known.
Why doesnt it too, leave?
Like me, its all alone.
Deep, beneath realms of normalcy,
unsettling pity, boil and seethe.
Memories pelt, arising around,
ridiculing my choice, to breathe.
Pictures and notes, how ironic and cruel,
each began with a spark, never ending hope.
Now, taped scraps, mangled and course,
images and words, now razor sharp.
A footprint, inflicted within,
now a plaster cast, hanging overhead.
Ever present, but now visible,
fully defining, inevitable dread
Shouts, in exclamations,
loudly scrolled, at every view.
Unlove, yes the only love,
and untruths, that became true.

