Monday, June 06, 2005

Ah! There you are.

There you are, my friend.

You dull thud in the pit of my guts. I thought I felt you stir up a breeze a couple of days ago when you snuck through the tiny, sliver crack in My Wall; I'd just began to let go the tuck-pointing after, Oh, so many years of deliberate maintenance.

Walls, Moats, Tactical Evasive Maneuvers, Self-exiling, Witty Missiles of Defense, Ramped up Liquid Medical Skills, Radar Super-Honed, Creeping in Surreal North Viet Cong-like Tunnels (a Rat among Rats, spitting bile and contempt), seeking Ghost Allies, mapping out Escapes and Fakes, setting up Emotional Claymores and Bouncing Betties, accepting/rationalizing a Honorable Admiral Goes Down Alone With The Ship ending, and planning the Solitary Tombstone Cube with my Ancestors. Always fighting under a Black New Moon.

But then, the Vaguest Whisper of a Waning Crescent appeared. Barely visible, I thought it a Mirage, some Residue of Past Hope left unscrubbed from the bottom of my Bruised Heart. A bit of dust forgotten under the loveseat.

I peered again, analyzed it from all the limited angles I know, checked the history books, roused my Internal Angel from His slumber, tickled my Muse-in-a-Coma, and grabbed the rusty telescope from it's tattered case.

I think a bit of silver winked back, and I thought "maybe?"

But now You hang on my Heart. I can feel your bulky black familiar gravity pulling me down from the inside, bumping the insides of my Lung Cage if I move to suddenly. Fear lumps in my throat again, clumps of You I try to expel to no avail. I try to Drown you, but You're parasitical in nature, eating all of Me from the inside out.

And here I go, getting all Melodramatic about something that didn't happen. I always get nostalgic for things that never happened. I love wallowing in the Safety of Sadness. With You, I know where I stand: alone.

And it's easier to fight yourself because either way, you win.

And my words kill me.
And my words probably killed The Moon.
And I voice my own Self-fulfilling Prophecy.

When the Moon is full, it is full because the Sun Shines on it.
I only observe the phenomenon.
I don't recall how to be the Sun.

Until I go back to the earth, We shall crawl arm in arm, my heavy shadow friend.

3 comments:

Shiya said...

sigh...if i didn't feel like dying before, i certainly do now. but there's a hidden compliment in that--you truly have a gift with words. i can feel your gut-wrenching sadness...excuse me while i go wallow...and kneel by a friendly toilet.

Shiya said...

Really? This one?

Mac said...

yes, you were/(are?) my Whisper of Moonlight.