What naivete could have caused such desecration? One autumnal night I detached and buried myself I drove out the sun and killed all growth And worshipped the trauma that scarred my destiny I became guilts, phobias, neuroses, compulsions Gifted with wings yet lacking knowledge of their use Mundane expectations and the sheen of despair Potential ruined by terrible circumstance
Almost a year is lost and there are more days ahead Whilst my own limbs become cumbersome and weary Delusional, pathetic, spastic, and limp Repressing conflict and ineluctable meltdown
Denying emotion, pleasure becomes routine Sweltering, stifling, blighting decrepitude Disguised by layers of useless humor My laughter is hateful to deprecate the optimist
All my heroes are dead if they ever existed Retreating into patterns of defensive isolation The narcotic apathy of daydreams and fantasy And the pain is overwhelming
I am not a philosopher but a narcissist in a fugue state Vapors of the past normalize into my ghosts I framed the walls and mountains that enclose my sanity Suffocating the senses and the instincts of power
Adapting to the dark I became anxious of the light Movements slow and fragile, eyes dull as a mask Reacting to abandonment by abandoning myself A derelict child upon gargantuan shores
Submerged within a delayed mind, alone with my hostility Only to guess at the depths of the caldera Hiding in hurts, using them as an excuse The cringing incongruity, the victim on display
Incapable of even sleep Memories of joy are forgotten Embalmed by my own lies Driven to the point of honesty, I surrender
I can no longer suspend my disbelief No one touches me to validate my existence I'm sick of living underwater I want my humanity back!!!
This is not my paradise Creativity channeled into madness Frozen on the critical moment Reliving failure in quiet rot This should not be happening to me Insane because I turned my back on her All I can do is exploit my wounds Dying in a vacuum of loneliness
I must not drown in my own intellect Tides of extinction below the psyche Dreams of genocide fade as fear dissolves Capable of more devices than destruction I want to stomp and prance in affirmation Spiders at the gate of an inner world Damaged, broken, obsessed I will be with her again