A
sober epiphany
It
is the night before
It
is a walk into battle without a rifle
I
find myself suddenly needing to play catch up
The
masks drop for long enough for me to
Remember
and
long
enough is not long at all
And
I am fragile and I am small
I
carry a deck of 52 aces
Black
hearts every one
They
have got me this far and now refuse to
Serve
me any further
A Bösendorfer
sends me down the rabbit hole
The
sinking feeling nourishing and deadly as
I
hold my breath and decide whether to ever
Let
go
And
it is almost time
Almost
tomorrow
Then
I see it again
The
film still
The
portrait
Bleached
out
Morning
country
Winter
air
Mountains
The
opposing blade to here and
Now
And
what would once have been hell to me
That
being the fault of wise elders
The
conditioning by family
Who
knew better
Or
were just scared to death themselves
And
wanting to protect a child
The
white keys begin their fade
And
I know the end is due
It
comes without fail
Without
surprise
And
silence remains
And
the image remains
Secret
desire
An
infamous chill
Then
the small face
Two
eyes ready to be filled with
Whatever
I choose…
Cold
water from the streams
Runs
down my back
Smooth
rocks underfoot unsteady me
For
the first time I question
What
I have done
Everything
again a divers weight on my chest
Taking
me down and
I
am encased in cotton wool and silken thread
Forced
toward an ever long metamorphosis
I
am not running out of time
I
am immortal and unwilling
I
have all the time the gods hand out
These
days I just have no idea what to
Do
with it
And
I am fragile and I am small
And
I carry a deck of 52 aces
All
black hearts
53
if you count the one that keeps me
Running
So
I break out the claws
And
turn my back on myself
Sit,
sip, wait to get pulled into the whirlpool
It
is almost time
Almost
tomorrow
My
journey to the centre of the earth.