Womb

There are no more valid excuses to tell myself

as I sit here in silent turmoil

Making noise to kill the reality of what an idiot I have been

The noose has been tightening

for a little bit longer than awhile

The soil waits below me

to pull me underground

The bile builds within me as I am sickened by my asinine choices

The voices, once heard within, seem to screech at me from places that lie far outside my being

I have been seeing this all so clearly for too long to act like I am surprised

The penile protrusion that is my well-being was long ago already circumsized

I guess it just may be because I no longer know who I am

or maybe that is just another lame excuse

Perhaps my heart has somehow taking a liking to all of the years of abuse

I can only blame my own laziness for not kicking poverty in its Nomadic ass

I keep letting each moment linger for I know that inertia will force them each to pass

Sitting in the wake of the turbulence of the quake

Leaving me as prey to falling objects

I have taken blow after blow after blow

This is the last straw

I must get up, dust off and proceed or soon I will be drowning in the sewage that I have allowed to collect around me

Desperate to gnaw my way out to the pavement where daylight can burn me once again

To return to the places I have already been is the goal

But, what if those places are what stole the life away from my spirit in the past?

Back to my circle of protection

Before the spell was naively cast

To the seed of all my own betrayal

To set sail upon a sea that is raging in the wrong direction

The current, becoming the undertow

Before I dabbled in mystical realms about which I then really did not know

When forward motion keeps taking me into a cataclysmic abyss

The only thing that my intinct can fathom now is thoughts of crawling back into the womb to seek out embryonic bliss

So, then death becomes reality and re-birth becomes the new beginning of the end...

1/9/2007