Between Silence and Sanity

Allow me a moment to scratch out this rhyme,

I need a break from the stalwart march of time.

Lately, my mind's craved its privacy, apparently...

but now I'm facing a choice between silence and sanity.

F**k it-- I'll admit it, I've been afraid.

I never thought my words would become so frayed

like the fringes of my mind, splintered tangents

of fulminating thoughts, ripping the canvas into fragments.

At some point, I believed I'd bring light to the abyss.

Prometheus-- chained to a spiral notebook.

For a while, my torch blazed bright against that darkness,

but then swiftly it came to reclaim all I had ever took...

Things seemed to change right before my eyes.

The world left me behind as I looked on, paralyzed.

Just as I was ready to place the final jigsaw piece

the wind stole it from my grasp like a withering leaf.

By the time I found it, the rest of the puzzle was gone.

From the world, I was suddenly and completely withdrawn.

Labels I'd never known now sought to define me,

every combination of them, somehow simultaneously.

Every single night, I searched the stars for answers.

Endless whispers, pleas, cries and prayers. 

I thought for sure it wasn't a matter of if, but when;

at least I won't make that mistake again.

Instead, I'll clothe my rage in garrulous rags,

then scream at the page when the hems inevitably snag.

So many of the words I so badly wanted to say

bled out in the gutters of an ink-drenched alleyway.

To understand, delve the depths of this wicked heart--

and bear with me my scattered thoughts.

I keep finding these fulgent flares, where darkness ought,

Enduring entropy replaced by its fleeting counterpart.

Should I even write, if truth is consumed by lies;

pen some roses, then cover the thorns in loquacious disguise?

What would be the point in thus reaching the atmosphere

if I'm perpetually staring at the ground in fear?

These days, just existing is inconsistent.

One moment I'm fine, the next I'm distant--

aware of every imperfection inside of an instant.

Keeping track of all the times You can and I can't.

I keep thinking there's a point where I'll cross a divide

without looking over my shoulder at the former side.

It seems more likely I'll sprout wings from my back

than ever getting over this shadow of a reality attack.

Well, now I'm wondering-- why even push this prose?

I guess I'm just not satisfied with ambiguity anymore.

There seems a point where sorrow and cynicism transpose

but then again, it's hard to tell the difference from down here on the floor.

Author's Note

I dunno what to say about this, other than: my brain basically forced my hand here. I wrote some of this a while ago, some of this semi-recently, and then finally finished it after a feverish few hours of typing (and mostly erasing.) I'm more glad to be done with it than it actually existing, and maybe if it wasn't 3 a.m. here I'd talk myself out of posting it... /shrug.

It shouldn't need much context to figure out what's going on here. Not that I ever provide much ANYWAY... but I'm not even tempted, for once. I mean... I've posted pieces I've been afraid of before, but it never really gets easier. It definitely ranks up there with "Let Me Freeze" at the top of the "hardest to hit the submit button" leaderboard. But, I guess if you're reading this, I managed it.

Anyway, enough ranting. Thanks for reading.

Reviews

[Nolo Segundo]

Again , I read your stuff and I feel envious of your innate power to make words dance. (Might want to proofread 'it's' in 8th stanza-- think you mean the possessive; and 9th stanza is wondrous, really.)