Heavy laden walls of macabre and rancor stretch toward the blackened sky of my mind. I have lost breath with every death, shallow heaves within' my chest; whereupon your disappearance, hand in hand...on one knee...my heart is laid to rest in a rusty sheath.
The memory remains, though lifeless; an ectoplasmic gore of translucent gray; It is as if that day never existed in reality, but in dream...only.
So you are a ghost. Deceased from all future tense, yet you haunt me in vague fascism. Negative only in self reflection, a distorted figure of familiarity. Innocence with "X" "X" ' s for eyes and sewn lips. I am forever cursed for opening up Pandora's box. I had no idea that's where it was hidden. Found by a fool, and used in ignorance.
I readily admit...I deserve this.
And you'll never see these words, not for what they really are...
And you'll never know, as I was never told, all the reasons why...
I hide, I hurt, I cry, I lie...in dirt...
...Before my sentencing...
...to forever...walk the earth.
By: Jay Bird
Copyright © 2006
