Slurred Emotions

In Six Months

11-19-07

A lover becomes a fiend.
Emptiness grows infinite.
Sharks turn to meat.
Life spirals
downward.
Families rue trends.
Nothing is what it seems;
obvious
but vaguely transparent.
Martyrs fail
while
sinners dine fruitfully
on the pageants of their lives
as felons.
Six months ago
times three
did I have it all.
Times two I was lost.
In the last six months
did I fall
hard
onto the landscape of reality.
Am I ashamed?
For feeling as if I've fallen
so fast and so far
like a submarine
leaden with guilt?
Ask me in six months' time;
one for each virtue
I cast aside.
One for each sin
I promised and broke.
One for every life
I left behind
by feeling left behind.
One each for hearts
I've took and broken
when I was foolish enough
not to know better.
To love is to fiend;
an addiction untreated
nor disclosed wisely.
No narcotic can provide
a safer place
than the trust
of the one who loves you
too much.
When you let that go,
god bless.
The afterlife of that hell
is hollywood-better
in death scenes
than the actual love
itself.
Let everyone else hide
from me
while I devise my own
perverse strategy
of survival.
Be I quick to jump
or late to die,
in six months' time,
there awaits, maybe,
a more proper understanding
of my life.