joi, 30 august 2012

For the love of words!

...because what am I without my words?I cannot stand before the world without an idea orbiting around passion's core or a symphony of letters rolling towards the tip of my tongue.I need to constantly feel a novel carving itself between the edges of my ribs,around my heart's restless beat,beneath the skin of my loins.I desire nothing but the fragile skeleton of sincere poetry and the gripping strings of endless pages.My bones are made of wood,my meat's a sea of ink,the skin above it-transparent stories of life and death and everything in between.
Like rivers with reversed streams,my veins shelter crimson blood and exploding dreams in their journey to a higher power.And among the tallest mountains it dwells!And a crown of troubled thoughts it wears!And all that I am sprouts from there!Such heavy worlds on such weary shoulders...This glorious burden can crumble at any moment,its beauty becoming an unforgiving poison.And it often does...
Those beloved ideas turn into deceitful crows with pitch black feathers,their flight smothering and deceitful.Words wither and letters crush under the weight of their own bitter substance.The lustful necessity of a blooming novel only ends up destroying the organic being that holds its plot.Marrow drips from the ends of incomplete rhymes and action mirrors only splattered events.It's as if anxiety had become a cancer of some sorts,spreading and clutching to every cell of reason and tranquility and will not to survive,but to live.
How ironic!The master at the feet of his very own beasts!I'm already bleeding on the inside and it's starting to show...If only I could sleep.If only I could forget.If only I could welcome oblivion as a dear friend.

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