oxypetallum

A Bottomless Evolution

Everything that was once in its right place begins to unravel

and I know that I am descending from my high.

Existentialism tucks me in at night

as I abandon my bones to seek asylum

in the vacuum of oblivion.

 

When I wake, I’m immediately arrested by nihilism

a bleak welcoming into a new battle of consciousness,

I want to fold back in utero.

The gentle embrace of Siegfried hijacks my heart

and trickles through my veins.

My mind though, is coated in kerosene

so precarious that a mere spark will ignite it.

 

Meanwhile, the thought of last spring burns me 

with an immeasurable ache.

It was a dream that slipped out of my hands, like February icicles melting off gutters.

Vicky tells me that change is the only constant in life

so how am I to settle in uncertainty?

The Buddhists tell me about acceptance 

‘God’ only knows how far that goes.

So I tuck this philosophy away, 

neatly,

politely, 

and lay my head back on my pillow

while the painfully stagnant future taunts me from above and all angles.

 

Days and nights stumble into the next

Time smoothes the painfully sharp edges of nostalgia

Into a dull knife, one of acceptance and endurance.

Can time be taken like a blue pill?

A flood of pseudo serotonin saturates my brain

The crashing waves in my mind recede

The 4 o’clock hour on a dreary Sunday

Is suddenly not so bad.

 

And the Earth never stops orbiting.

My eyes shift into the light after a drought of glory

A raw March morning

even the bitter end of winter looks so beautiful.

The gardenias emerge from hibernation 

and my bare legs exposed to the ultraviolet

and I listen less to Ultraviolence.

 

I see a jungle in my backyard and a tiger in my cat

I no longer escape to REM,

but instead bring it upon myself with an air of aspiration.

I dream of a condo in San Sebastian

the life I am meant to fulfill waiting to greet me.

I am excited by the Road Less Traveled,

inspired by words like wisteria, ambiguity, luminescence,

and fascinated by written portraiture.

I know that grass doesn’t try to grow, it just does

and I know that I am parallel to the grass

and I know that I am aligned with this unpredictable flow

and I find peace in being boundless.

I wear the ankh around my neck, the Egyptians told me:

I am eternal.

I listened.

They told me of the rebirth and I listened.