| Written: NOV 10, 2002 |
You can call me Cold,
Raging in silent emotion,
Calm as the deadest waters:
Yet fiery by thine eyes on contact.
Feeling thick with densities strived for,
I walk unburdened with feeling.
Blurry, I tread my eyes across all in my path,
Thinking I am better, or just pointing out flaws…
I know my own and do not even wish to overcome them,
I am too old to learn new tricks, and why bother?
I still lie here without my heart and no new ones offer themselves up,
Or can I not see them, or accept those that are offered, do I care now?
Like the static on the television, my heart is there and beating, yet functionless;
Irrevocably beating, and letting the normally lingering emotion be beat away.
Love & hate all too brief to leave a mark, to outlast the vicious push of the organ,
Just when it is about to skip a beat, some thought stirs it and causes the life to go.
Away, down into the oblivion that is night, flung into shadows like unwanted memories.
Fulfilling my potential of form, I am pleased with myself, only to dwell on the out of body,
Relationships & observations dot the shattered consciousness landscape, is it now barren?
Sitting in reflection, it is so full and yet too distant, so I sit as always pining, and heartless.
