Malign

Static inside that never stops. The toxic torture of my thoughts can drown even the most depraved. Death sits outside in a lawn chair with a cocktail and a cigarette. Smiles shared as we back down the suburban driveway to the world rolling by as we’re trapped in the prison of pain that breathes on it’s own as we plan our escape. Seeking safe passage from the reality that holds hands swinging in the summer of the sunshine sinful friends that hide in the back. Peering out from the smoke and saying “Hi” with a wave as the beat goes even if we don’t.

Buggy eyed and begging I try to make sense of it all. The life that was forced upon us. Capsizing the one we had and replacing it with a new one. Shinny and suffering. Bleak and cold. Sad and dim. Gloom and fucking Doom. And as quick as it came, it’s never left. Lurking and looming with it’s greedy hands all over me. Temptation knocking on the doors and windows letting me see it all. A full frontal fucking shit show for all to see. A cancerous car crash you can’t look away from. Life wont’ let me. There’s no way home and no where to hide. Space and time and peace are long gone while necessity became survival. My sword and shield are welded to me by wounds of the war that reprogramed my mind and body. Holding on to the ropes of hope with bloodied hands.

No healing here just darkness turned around and around searching for light. Sad songs on repeat and dancing for the need of it. The movement. The pulse. The running. The fear and anger. The wishing and sinking. The lacking. The craving. The emptiness. The wanting. The memories that creep. The future, like a carousel of unknown. My mind a home to the strange and unusual. Comforted by the ghosts and the demons and angels alike. The punishment is cruel. Stinging with pain’s pleasure. Wrapped in wrong and wrecked in real. So much for so long. Bruised from the battle. Forever changed and dedicated to the dark. Home is where the heart is, even if it’s broken.

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