I’ve been running too long . . . my brain on spinning limbs like a road runner creating a hazy cycle of dust, blurring out my mind’s ability to feel definitive emotion.
I’ve been evading too long . . . trying to create a constant distraction from the dread of loneliness always tugging at the sight of other lovers’ embraces or a cold night flown solo.
I’ve been hiding too long . . . in shady places filled with indistinct faces, some tasteful enough to capture my mind’s attention but too faded to make bland this flavorful regret that is ever present on my lips, soaked with the bitter after taste of what once was. . .
I’ve been searching too long . . . for the answer to this riddled melancholy that has stealthily replaced my joy– Looked far and wide, in the remaining drops desperately sucked from the bottom of popped bottles; in the last crumbs of solace- baked, fried, grilled, raw; in the tempting eyes of Hershey brown let downs…
in the nostalgic reflection of the past, residual memories of this fragmented love.
This last answer being the worst, acting as an agent of gravity, dragging me lower into the abyss of my mind’s own personal hell— over-analysis, paranoia, and degradation.
But now, I think it’s time to pump the brakes. I think it’s time to let this aggressor catch up with its prey.
I have evaded you long enough. To chase with such persistence, you must have a reason.
Maybe you have a story to tell, maybe you have an answer … that will solve the mystery of this misery.
I think I will become acquainted with my predator, and I think I know your name . . .
Pain, I will finally let you attain what you so desire . . . my entire existence. From the soles of my feet, to the peak of my cranium.. I’ll let you rule every inch of me.
After this trial and error of every answer the human heart can imagine, Pain—maybe you are the only lifeline left. Well, I’m calling you in before there’s no soul left to bring back to life.
So pain, I’ll let you wash over me, like a red-stained wave, soaked with the blood of a bleeding heart left floating in the whitewash of a love lost.
Crimson Hope, surge through my veins reawakening my senses, a shock of lightening defibulating the beat back into this broken heart, and put an end to this failed search for indifference.
Because indifference is an imaginary emotion, a façade created for fleeting refuge. it is impossible to feel nothing. There only exists the attempt at pretending that everything is going to be ok.
Nothing will be ok. It will hurt. It will burn. It will scorch.
But Great Red Pain, I know you will not last forever.
So take the lead, grab the reigns, cast my discarded parts into your furnace of refinement, and I know at some point . . . you will fade.
And when you do, like imperfections risen to the top of a blazingly pure piece of metal, I will wipe away my old impurities like sweat from the forehead.
And in your absence, will remain a Golden Soul.