February 23, 2008

• For Lack of a Better Word.

  Would you give it up?
  That somber silence stealing sound,
  So complete, so perfect, so absolute zero in its
  Weather. Would you give it up?
  That darkness, for lack of better words
  To describe a unique affliction. That
  Miasma of color as black as your father’s hair and
  Genetics, it must be genetics that you can blame it on.
  But would you
  Give that up, that cave of unending isolation,
  That sadistic promise of solitude,
  Carried inside you despite the crush of bodies
  And the thrum of voices
  And the Whats and Whos of living.

  If you gave it up,
  If you give over, and listen up,
  If you turned over and swallowed it up,
  And let the meds fill you like the undesired
  Cum of ones that burn your shell with claws like fire,
  (for lack of better words). Just so you could
  Not be so empty, and alone, and all those
  Adjectives that are too profanely small
  To describe how endless such boxless
  Potential can be.

  Then you could have it,
  That other type of quiet they call
  Normal. That other type of darkness they call
  Safe. That other type of life that you call Boring,
  Pathetic, Pointless.
  You could lose it, that wondrous silence
  That makes each word gleam like jewels in twilight,
  That lovely darkness that makes each sight blinding
  In its wondrous lucidity. So losing that, but gaining the other,
  You could have what they want for you,
  At the cost of your Self,
  And you could have, with that medicated, sedated emptiness,
  An easier acceptance of
  The lack of better words.

  • 3:34 pm
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