Wednesday, April 6, 2011

All These Years

Feeling
a slow and steady anxiety
feeding
off a veritble feast
of the unstable banquet within
as the world around me turns
and life goes on.

Staring
with recognition
but without understanding
at the wounds I score
into the fabric of the present
without apparent cause
but knowing
there must be some reason
why I make these choices.

Hoping that the understanding
will epiphasise
or emerge
or fall into my lap
or manifest in some goddamn way
just so I can do
whatever work it is
that I am alledgedly here to do
and then move onto the healing part
so I can finally move onto the living part
which has somehow otherwise elluded me
all these years.
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