well this is akward

I stir the ashes with the sacred finger bone, I need to rattle the chains and stir the dark things from the pit that lies deep inside the heart of my magic.
I should have found another option but it was too late now and this was the only avenue available, the copper pan begins to sing as I move the etched bone in circles through the pile of black and white debris.
 My eyes feel heavy in the darkness and it's all I can do to stay awake, the visions come in from the sides like a dream, an electric shock that jumps my heart into a faster rhythm.
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Memories, things that happened long ago to different people, seemingly brighter for all the mistakes and past regrets.
 Smells and music paint a vivid picture far more than the obscured photography of the eyes, the musty scent of my first car and the heady aroma of wet fire wood.
Rock and roll as I sleep on a couch and the bitter cigarette smoke of my parents and relatives shape my earliest child-hood.
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We're all cages for our insecurities, living zoos of chaos and hate, blood and love holding the worst of it at bay.
When we sleep and dream and ride the ship of out minds through the starry expanse of space look upon the darkest parts of the velvet back drop.
The patches of stars that lay hidden under a curtain of oil, behind that is your true self, the thin and disturbed creature that holds the entire world in contempt.
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or maybe I'm just feeling down right now and I shouldn't drag you all down with me I apologize