Then, it’d be like this, the little scream, the strange thought
It is drivel, a let down of emotions, but something comforts, it spirals around the neck and claws its way out, a monster is bred, through the mouth into the heart of someone
I know, I talk, I see, but I do not hear, I silence equally though I am alone when we are together
The strange happiness continues, the surrender is imminent, and then, without a warning, a strike, another, another, and then I die, I die with you, and I am still alone
But I can dream a little dream
I can have a little bite
I can die endlessly, for I am alive, and I am alive just to please you, I can see through the eyes of my enemies that I can exist like this, as long as I follow rules, and play nicely, and let eyes wander stupendously
I cry then, not completely sure that I have learned a lesson, but curious, dynamic, tired, ready to be wrapped up in a strange fleshiness
Something I want, is out of reach, something I see, is out of reach, something I dream is out of reach, so what can be reached, followed through, planned, taken, sung?
I am still alone, but I am discovering it, the scream that is muted by the ringing madness, the eyes never open, but the mind always notices, the lamentation, another day of existing just to make sure I can exist again, another day, another minute
Suddenly, without warning, I am myself again, away from desperate thoughts. But I am no longer shaking at the thought of being alone, but of acting alone, of never feeling the warmth of a finger. I am lost in my own elation with one thought gnawing still, and still, continuing existing when I didn’t want that. A lifetime cocoons, and I am still again, I the same moment I was a few moments ago, only changed to be in the future, as the present stretches. The hope is not eternal, but the slow recovery darkens something much more sinister, an overshadow always suffering, a smiling meandering. In a life that exists such as mine, with words such as these, I know, I know, and then I don’t know, and it still remains, and it will be still, nowhere, as long as I am, nothing, always thinking, thinking. But I am myself, the creature that was alone, and loved being alone, but at the same time, I am the one that wraps itself into a corner, saying nonsense, believing nonsense, but strongly, like nobody else does. The dream is extinguished, as long as with the light of my life, but a shine, from somewhere else, from a single, solitary seed that has sprouted to a sickened inch, and then nothing, nothing, but a heartbeat that seems innocuous, a feeling that seems unnecessary, a scream for life that can be happy and terrifying. I don’t know who I am, I want to know, then I don’t want to know, and then I am there, regardless, trying to be sensible and proper.