neoacidcreep

This filthy window I have

Only let’s in the sickest light

The laziest of sunbeams

Trickles in like frothing bile

Out of a diseased mouth,

Falling on my cold body

Is it the light, or jaundice?

I can’t tell any more.

The mangled trees leave

An aching void inside me.

Barren branches clacking

Against the violent winds.

Merely motion no thought.

A need to move and be moved,

The decaying tree means more

Then my infantile lifestyle.

Beset by this clogged window

Twiddling my fingers, passing

Time until I am released.

I vomit on myself and window,

The stomach lining and blood

Add much needed color to the scene.

A violent vibrancy sponsoring

A bought of ill-advised anger.

Smashing the chair, collapsing

The wall in the process.

Strangle the cat that doesn’t

Even love me after all I’ve done.

Another bought of retching

Brings me up short.

Looking out over a wasteland

Skewed sickly brown and yellow

Through this miserable window,

My stomach trying to escape

It’s captivity from within me.

Blood let loose from palms

Cut by the walls craftsmanship,

Rivulets cascading parallel to me.

The tree waving to some friend

In the distance unseen to my eye.

Flashes of anger dance

On my mind’s eye, hatred, rage

Blood, death, life, waste, nothing!

The reek of rotting flesh,

The natural response

To wretch at the smell.

The assaulting feeling

When presented with

A putrid mass of disease.

This is who I am now,

The antithesis of rot

And the model decay.

 

Oh, such lofty heights

Presented before mine eyes,

Discarded like so much waste.

For what, I ask myself,

To what ends have I reached,

To what goal do I move?

Is this not just a game,

A trifling attempt at nothing

A movement towards emptiness?

 

No, I know a fallacy

When it is presented,

I can spot a lie from a mile.

I know my life is art,

No, my life is not art,

I am art, I bleed art,

I am an expression

Of the universal conscious,

I am bridging the gap.

 

This world and the next one,

I am slung across both

Creating a human bond.

Holding together the two

Foreign concepts with mine hands,

Keeping the dream alive.

Spilling myself, my life

Onto page after page,

Speaking to the soul of poets.

 

Vanity washed away by

A void of flowing nothing,

Nihilism consumes everything.

It left me to fend alone,

Cast into this uncaring world

I rose, I fell, I lived.

I say this now to no one,

I speak to the sun alone,

I bleed the life of art.

 

Through these veins runs the All,

The universe pours through me,

It consumes every aspect.

Look into my eyes, see All,

I can see through you, into you,

An open book to read.

You are nothing to me,

Not worth a second glance,

Not even worth my time.

 

A pale shadow cast across

The landscape of this planet,

Not worth the mentioning.

Yet still compelled to them,

Compelled to you, I am,

Like a magnet to a filament.

I cannot pull far enough away,

Backed up against a wall

Trying to escape your grasp.

 

I lie to myself again,

Say that I do not want you,

Yet here I am, with you.

Pleading my case to you,

Begging for your forgiveness,

Trying to make you understand.

I wish I could stop this,

Wish I could leave you behind,

Leave you to fend on your own.

But the tether that binds me,

Binds me to this sad world

And to the other grandiose world.

 

So here I am, this is me,

Bleeding onto paper

For no on else but you.

One day you will worship me,

One day I will be praised,

One day I will be loved.

Today though, misunderstood,

Forgotten and unloved

I lay here broken and spent.

 

I don’t live the life of art,

I bleed it, I sweat it,

I breathe it, I vomit it.

I am art, I am the All,

Passing through this life

Trying to find someone.

Today, I am alone,

And yet somehow this is

Ok, as long as I know,

 

That I bleed art upon the page.