Evening Comes: A Curtain for Us All
In seconds, my thoughts shrink back to the past—a trivial form I hardly know, and wouldn’t, save for the likeness of the lines. Hovering above the world—trapped in some reality away from the body I know—I can see how everything changed from there to here.
The slow travel of a slug across the friction of pavement. It has a trail. If I trace it back to the beginning, maybe I’ll find the salt.
Where did the drugs come from? The dependency? Who was the con man that bought you, and released you into the prison?
It’s been quite a long time since I felt true fear. I don’t know who you people are, and I am frightened to witness not only your actions, but your faces. I don’t know what I’ll see.
You lost 13 pounds in four days…you lost your music to your style…you haven’t slept in weeks.
I thought long and hard to find the best course of action. I wondered if I could save you; I could scream, kick, shove and unleash a torrent of well prepared statements pertaining to why you should change. I could never see you again. I could watch, like a lonely god, as all of my humans ruined their lives and remain as I am…that spirit you occasionally talk to in the depths of the night while you’re at your worst or at the peak of your high. I’d still take your calls. I’d still listen to your rambles. I’d still love your little voices as they whispered out their acid induced fears and ideas.
You could still speak of the things I could never hope to understand, but do.
While I could continue to humor you. Pretend that your feet still worked and that the distance you looked over was shrinking, still, as you headed in the direction of your preferred destination.
But I have never been good at lying, and that’s all you have ever wanted.
Deep down, I know this is the last time I will see you.
There will be no neighborhoods or houses filled with just old friends. No road trips to visit everyone. No bands. We’ll never finish our plans or our songs. We’ll never sit on porches playing guitars. We’ll never learn how to perfectly harmonize to “Hide and Seek”. I suppose we’ll never find one another.
My whitened knuckles unclenched, I will release you all.
Kinda Drifting Into The Abstract
Fuck everything that ever stood in my way and said “you are this way, and you always have been” with a tone that suggested I always would be.
I am my own god, as God would have it, and regardless of illusion, I have my free will and I am going to use it.
