No Place Like Home

Never belonging.

Forever flitting.

Nothing

I hate death.

I hate how it leaves things behind

Alone

And cold

And hollow.

How everything is unfinished

Those books they never read

Those sights they never see

That skin they'll never touch

And all the suffering they leave behind

A life time of collectibles

Sentimental objects

Favorite shirts

Special trinkets

Useless

Without cause or meaning

The potential and dreams of a lifetime

Vanished

And the connections

And love of the living

All that joy

And happiness

Flashing to memories

Which taunt

Bully

Haunt

What can we do when our world rests upon a single entity?

An entity that is mortal

Delicate

And although may appear as unchanging as sand

and as certain as a maggot feeds from rotten flesh

That maggot still needs flesh to feed from

At your expense

And they will come for your world of joy

And leave you with nothing but the past

And old books you can do nothing with

But stain with tears

Then they will wait for you to rot

Until you are but a memory

Without love

Without thought

Without consciousness

Just nothing

Ever again

10/12/2009

Turmoil

Oblivion

Seeping the walls

People but strangers passing

Once friends, now I cannot stand

their company.

Empty and isolated among companions

For love is a curse

And I scorn the day I ever felt its cruel caress

It steals life

Taking from me any contentment

I had obtained

Had fought to obtain

I was happy

Now food is joyless

Simple pleasures, pointless

And everything else stings.

I refuse to be caught by its tantalizing touch

It's unreliquishing urges

Hollow hurts

It doesn't suit me.

I prefer to never feel its burn

then have one moment of its temporary shallow ecstasy.

If it exists,

It can find me

As I will not make any move towards it

again.

Locking myself away and waiting

Rather than ruin my essence

Tainting my joy

and leaving me blind.