One Year;

One year; one year ago
it was not a sane man who sat
on dark steps of concrete;
3:30 in the morning, shoulders
cramped and brachials ablaze,
listening to Cash's mono-tonic
"I Walk The Line", sucking sour
coffee and nicotine thinking thoughts,
trembling at the fear not of, but for,
the words he would speak, write.

One year and this man, this Bones
sat on those cold steps unconsciously
considering how to fool the gods,
how to reach for what was written
as not for him.

Caution thrown to the wind, a desire
to be human for a day, to taste
the fruit Eve fed Adam, Bones
reached his fingers outwards towards
a bit of light floating on the night wind.

That night it was not a sane mind,
heart, pen filled with questions no right
to ask - questions of a life, her passions,
and he forgot who, forgot what, he was.

And in forgetting layed open his chest
exposing that place where men
should hold their heart, their soul.
Layed open, no heart, no soul
was exposed, only the black hole
bound within his cage of rib.

Two spiraling minds collided - a brief
supernova of wholeness and desire -
Bones thought he might avoid fate;
might rewrite his existence. Reluctantly,
then willingly she gave of a life, passion.

She gave -
He consumed.

She gave and he took. He took and he took
and took and he took and took until she
was consumed completely. Nothing left
but the single thought swallowing all
lighter thoughts; with a sigh her light
faded away consumed within his night.

One year and the crumpled pages, words
of love's lightening, of rage, passion, the fire
of death - language of bleeding hearts -
lie at his feet amid cigarette butts...

...but there is no heart, only the black hole
encased within a cage of rib.

One year and still it is not a sane man
who sits still on those steps of concrete
until 6:30 in the morning; naked
but for a stolen, faded, blue robe
in the blue light of morning; shoulders
still cramped, brachials still ablaze,
still he listens to Janis croon "Me
and Bobby McGee", he sucks sour coffee
and nicotine
thinking
the same
insane
thoughts...

...as if there might
still be hope.

Thoughts
such as these...

_{(A Friend :: 08-03-2010)}