Thursday, February 9, 2012


What happens when the voices that you trusted most mess up,
Lead you into the wild but are too afraid to 'fess up?
What happens when you realize that your model of truth
has been lying to you?
Now what am I supposed to do about the words I learned to use?
Your eyes would illuminate in all the dark places
but now they absorb light from our fiery faces.
Your footsteps were long and deep as I hopped to the next
Till my gaze rose to meet this vast nothingness

My world tips and spins as the cheshire cat grins
Now the winner loses, but nobody wins.
Where are my own feet? Are they lost forever?
Sinking into these footprints of never?
What was left is right and what was right is wrong
And now they're making horror movies out of sing-a-longs.
I keep on sliding up and leaping straight down
mumbling and tumbling into the ceiling-ground.

A life that used to be like the rows of a choir
has been slapped into a drunken circus on fire.
My heart hammers harder and my legs swivel faster
hoping to find a ticket out of this disaster.
In the midst of the smoke and the sick-cycle drone,
my feet—yes my own—slam into something stone.
I drink in the smell of a rock never changing
and take root on paths that won't need rearranging.
The direction of this bedrock is still up for grabs
But it is unshaking beneath my tired scabs.  

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