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Dead Memory

Dead Memory
By inkblot on 10/03/2011
Viewed: 277
Reviews: 2
I want to call.
How I want to call out to you.
With a fire comes a storm as terrible and
serene as the scent of a far off rain.
Listening not, to a fool for a change, who''s
veins are bleeding again, the sound the rain
drowns my pain soaked and alone. Again the
acrid fluid tastes drown you out of me.

A saddened clown who knows no friend or foe
asks; Where can I go? Where can I hide? But
to the bottom where they feed. Where they
feed on the Dead memories like me.
Eating, seething repeating the plot.
The pain and memories of a man... a ghost
forgotten but forgiven.
A willing shackle for a faint touch of the
pale skin and to grasp the last bits of
sanity that would be you.

How I would crawl to you and fall like water,
like blood and life. Not for another or for
a chance... but for a bit of time, dead or
To stop the screams.
To stop the dreams that clench and cinch my
rope and veins and hope of seeing you by the
end of my time.
Of seeing into those eyes haunting my waking
and walking dreams. Without you I have become
this machine.
Fueled by anger and charged by pain.

When? I ask.
When will I be again?
When will I be able to be again?
The torment is rich in my blood, boiling and
searing through my heart and body, cooking
and burning away what is left of the metal
chemiclas that have changed me into this
Hidden beneath this leathered skin, tattered
and beaten into the shape of a human being. It
is symbolic of the course of which I have
drifted away. It is the child I miss and the
adult I wish could break free form the
millions of years of s..t and rust that holds
me to the flames.


You invade me and I cannot think, but to
crawl back into myself, crying to be free
from you, dying to be with you. You have made
me nothing and are everything that is me. My
thoughts, my pain, my desire, my healing
shredded will ripped and thrashed, funeral
garb infested and feasted by the morbid chum
that covers me as I wake and spawns as I sleep
and creeps into my fantasies and dreams. Bring
ing you to life at night when I, half-wake,
drift and seep into huanting theme and
morbidity of your return.

Everyday through its blue, everyday through
its gray,
dawns and dusks I think about you
wishing, wanting and waiting for you
Come to me and be the part of me that makes me
whole, complete. Drift away with me into
nights o'' starry skies. Across the fields and
plains of destiny that promise to hold and
love while the eons of the earth crumble
into the voids of space and the seas in sail
wrap us in our naked warmth until the Death
of Death succumbs and desintergrates blown
by the winds of our sheltered dreams.

Now alone I howl into these empty nights.

Fear and dispair have nourished me into these
deformed obtuse and separate beings
(2 B Cnt...)

Sam A A

By inkblot On 10/3/2011 1:24:49 PM
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