Is it all one badly written play?

Illusionary connections so much is not real,

Attached to survival we sever the chords of living, we delve deeply into belonging, drift further away from self.

We crave to be loved and turn to ice when love warms us; we devour like ravenous wolves the mercies and kindnesses that are shown.

The world shreds around us into shards of cold lights that slice the darkness, we strive to conform chameleon like, as we step from light to dark.

Who knows us, who really sees who we are, the shards are mirrors of might have been, might yet become the darkness is of what is, as it lurks behind the shards.

I consume so therefore I am, I lie so therefore you know me by my lies.

This harlequin mask that passes by on the crowded streets it hides the unknown. Is this my face? Are you beguiled into believing the mask is me?

Who knows themselves?

 I am unknowable to myself, an ever colliding kaleidoscope of contradictions disorganized and disgorged to blend in with the other unknowns the other unknowables that are you and you and you.

I consume therefore I exist, I take therefore I am but ask me in the quiet times when the air is too still to distract if what you see is real and I will break the pattern of life and tell you don’t believe in me.

It’s all a game, a hunt a spontaneous play, we are players, the hunted and the hunter’ the lovers, the liars and a siren’s ancient song that lures the dreams of strangers to be dashed upon our broken shores, vessels ripped and plundered, the tide just washes them away.

Shallow tides flash past my vessel, there’s no longer desire to stride the expanse of meaningless from horizon to horizon, there’s no theatre left to play there’s no audience left to amuse, so what is left, an actor who desires no further roles for an audience that ceased to care?

Can will alone cause the curtains to close and shed the assembled masks that make up a life?

And in solace is all laid naked and exposed as a murder of crows strips the carrion bones clean and leaves the truth picked bare?

 

Author's Note

Be harsh if you have to be.