don't wait for moonlight
to guide you
like a lost dog
it will lead you on
bash you on the rocks
laugh
when courage fades
and the last bubble of air
breaks on the
water and
is gone.
what face will you show the world
will it be the real you
or the one that sits around
in the darkness
waiting for
you to
move on
get a groove on
try a new face on
sing a different song?
is it trembling in fear
hoping for cancellation
a re-embrace of
false conceptions
that explain your
lowness
at the source?
is it full of pent up desire
cowering and agitating
for the hard fist
to stop,
waiting for the quiet knives
to expect laughing
when they cut
out your heart.
is the face in the painting
a reason to forget
about whatever happened?
wipe clean the endless
slate of stale reason
washed with tears
and hung up wet.
you can't drink the
nectar from dead flowers
or make a boat from
a dying tree
to float downstream
through dreams
and passion
and finally to rest
and be free.
you have to let
go of the ropes that hold
you back bundled
troubled, doubled over
beating welts into blank flesh
in a low lit room.
old stories
hamper the new
and like the power of ten
from the past refracting light
you can't go home again.
no one else is holding you up.
no one else is holding you down.
the hands that hold you back
are your own.
No comments:
Post a Comment