FILTH, 2010

THE EMBRACE, 2010

The grey follows me

Blurs my vision and clouds my thoughts

The veil of confusion hangs before my eyes

And instead of dismissing another’s glance

Reels in the reactions of disgust as I am stood helpless behind

The transparent mask.

I stand at the mercy of the South prevailing winds as the

Illusion of billowing folds of cloth enters my minds eye and

Disrupts the meditative state of being.

I am surrounded by many, screaming, wrenching at their gut,

Burning from within and hurling abuse at my figure of torture.

Anxiety grasps me by the throat, unleashed by the offensive

Words of once loved lands, and suffocates my breath with

Pain and overgrowth.

As would a living grave hold you down to the centre of the

Earth, so would your tongue tie you down to the words you once

Promised a decade ago, and forgive you only at the utterance

Of your last sigh.

You have had your instincts torn from flesh.

You have had your insight shaded from truth.

You have had your trust tied in chains.

You have had your faith hung up to die.

It hurts.

It bleeds from the contaminated cells of your gut.

It multiplies, germ by germ, until the disease is rotting

Layers beneath the organ of anxiety,

Trapping the sensation of suffocation within the cavity of pain.

You feel loss.

You feel absence.

You feel a void.

You feel alone.

Exhaustion breeds upon itself, within itself,

Raping each and every inhalation of life you struggle to capture.

Sadness cradles the victim, wrapping your soul in darkness

To protect you from the symptoms of an enlightened emotion.

The violent attack on your integrity allows your pride

To growl and glare into the face of intellect

And devour the very words that are intended to heal.

You seek a cure in the muddled medicine of thought,

Yet the disease has set deep, allowing only for a deprived state

Of recuperation to be your comfort.

You cleanse.

You disinfect,

With tears of defence,

Released from the cancerous growth imbedded in your memory.

Your tears flow with nuclear power and your

Vulnerability is evaporated into a cloud of acid.

Molten asbestos runs like lava through your veins,

Threatening your fragile existence,

Drowning your hope in ash.

A single voice prevails, above the logic of reason,

Beyond the constraints of logic.

A pill of health,

A band-aid in the battlefields of hell.

A faint recording of it’s grinding texture

Rotates amidst your collective self punishment,

Resonates beyond the torture of guilt.

You listen.

You doubt.

You adore.

You succumb.

I am collecting my tools around me.

I am polishing my skills once generously betrothed to me

Long ago.

I am formulating a plan

To build a statue of expression.

Layers and layers of fertile soil to determine the life

And depth of this fragile terrain.

I am drilling beneath the unturned stone to

Bring oxygen to an untouched earth,

Where the presence of a dream has haunted my soul

Since my soul began to search for itself.

I am preparing my body to take on the burden of the

Inevitable weight of discovery.

I am training my lips to give form to the words.

I am loosening my fingers to bring rhythm to the song.

I am saluting my past to pass reason on my belief.