do you know what it means to long for something?
i do
unequivocally
and i despise it
it is an ugly feeling
ghastly and disgusting and gnawing at the soul
but it’s also a growing feeling
like a bone pressing against sinew
begging to stretch into something greater
to new heights never before experienced
too bad i’ve always been short
it comes and goes
in times of prolonged solitude
when it’s just me, the beach and her
the moon loves to toy with me
she’s grinning right now
and if i close my eyes i can see hers
i don’t know what they say
some strange mix of mania and sorrow
she grins, and then it’s high tide
i'm so tired
and the water washes over me
but i'm still so tired
of not knowing how brass feels against my lips
or of plucking a string like an idiot
to have a voice that wobbles and cracks
to press keys one by one
convincing myself i can play a chord
if you keep an animal in a cage
it needs entertainment
new ways to keep it alive
watching passing faces becomes boring
and a meal is only occasional release
from the higher thinking they must at times do
when they ponder their own sorry state
socializing is a learned skill
animals kept in enclosures
then thrust into the wild
will struggle reintegrating
mingling with and joining their feral brethren
it’s a stark difference in behavior
a group who knows how to behave
will rarely accept an individual
with no sense of his own individuality
sometimes the water gets excited
and laps up on my forehead
the minerals swirl around in my ears
it’s food for thought
makes me think about my inadequacies
like how graphite is foreign to me too
and the handle of a paintbrush is entirely theoretical
gold flows in my veins
and it begs to gush out of me
you never let me learn how to release it
my pores can only sputter
and the waves come over my hands
take what little i may have been able to create
the little flecks scramble away to the deep
the moon is grinning wider than ever before
and i can’t see the stars
there is only a chasm of black above me
and i didn’t really care to think on it
i had more important things to do
that’s what you said anyway
so the sky was black and that was that
before the terror set in, of course
when i, not much younger than i am now
realized the sheet had depth
and i could reach into it, if i really wanted to
my scream still rings in my ears
there are stars people shoot for up there
and i’ve shot for them too
but those were your stars, not mine
weren’t they?
i swear some blurry shadow eclipses her at times
a fish or some malformed monstrosity
from it cards flitter down like gentle rain
they fall face-up on the pale sand
some attempt to divine my present
i don’t need divination to know
just off to the side i can see it
a chariot turned inside out, buried in the sand, ablaze
and there’s a spent torch in my hand
embers still hot on its scorched surface
don’t ask me about it
the tide is up to my chin now
and when the waves come over my mouth
i taste a sickening brine
an ipecac, melting my throat
and i try to think about this hell
where the moon can smile at me
i don’t know about you
but she’s a creepy thing
i’m not so sure rocks can be born
so macabre, so malicious
and only now, if i look closely…
that’s a chiseled smile, isn’t it?
the night has always been so clear
and yet only now i can see the notches in her grin
the signs of someone’s craft
it’s sloppy work
my eyes don’t even sting anymore
i’m just that fed up
and i could always get up from the shore
but you chained my feet with weights
and weights make it hard to walk
maybe i could shake them off
or i could do it later
do it in the spring break
when i have nothing to do
or the summer holidays
when you tell me i am free
or the winter, between semesters
or next year, when i can manage my time better
that distant reprise you always promise me
proactivity is a farce
wait until i’m green and exhausted
before you try to heal me
it’s fine
i have this mutilated moon to keep me company
while i wait my turn
i’m sorry i was ever enough for you
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