asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,
asklepiades
asklepiades

  • Mood:
  • Music:

writing

this isnt really it
this isnt anything except,
when you met me by the theatre that night in late september
then the leaves were stars and the stars were leaves
nothing had to make sense,
but now they say it does

any father and its distant
and closer and its just not the same
i can feel the smooth vibrations
in your name

water there is water
somewhere underneath my name
somewhere far below these streets
on which
i tread
i feel if flowing across my feet as they descend
this river's death and i shall drink

was it raining? i didnt think so,
yet all the colors were so cold
i remember your fingers being wet as i turned them over
but i dont remember after all,
so its not like it mattered
it only meant everything to me.

and i still hear the sirens
the spinning doors
my spinning mind
there was velvet growing on the walls,
and on the grass and in the sky

the stars were growing growing
and i was only running

until i reached that old bridge
the one from so long ago
i still remember the way we'd sit there
when the three of us were so small
that the creek below was a mighty fall
(and there were three)

the earth is thinner now,
its rivers lapping me up the way they lapped you up that night
the way they lapped him up that night.

this is my highest mountain
this is as far as i can see
any higher and im flying
any lower its still me

but i cant see you
im not the highest peak around
the flashing lights and flashing lights
and i for once cant find you for the first time in my life

these arent the steamy nights where everything we knew was psychadelic
you arent in those quite nights we spent alone
the really loud ones where slipped in unnoticed and felt our ugliness slip away,
you arent there.
i cannot find you in your house, your mothers tears are mixed with shouts this day,
as she drives me out.

its not cold beneath these waves, but i cannot see
the water rises to my eyes and i dont remember which of my pockets you fit into
its this brown coat of mine that you fit into
but i see it wash away; this is as high as i can go

all these uniforms so dirty against the velvet sky
(that was yours once); the stars are growing
tearing and it all comes down
my boney arms cannot push me through this,
and everything is spinning anyway so i cant remember if it matters

i see my father years ago
he looks the same to flooded eyes
i see my neighbor from a house
her flowercoated dresses, elder smile, and little dog
oh, it died; yet still they whisper to me
where, where are these things

im much smaller now than ive ever been before
ive never seen the mighty fall this large
but there are faces in it
so many faces, so far down

the theatre lights flicker like they always do
a swift swirling of color, of light
feet are running and theres shouting
sudden fumbling of arms and hands
of hands in hands until i can feel you no more
so much shouting, so much shouting

feet above me i cant feel im slipping
spinning and theres a sudden sound and
the theatre lights go off for good.

im smiling, and i dont know a soul.
the sparkling sun moves around a cloud
and the water is so shiny
i feel myslef moving forward
im falling down now;
the mighty fall..
all the faces;
there you are
there he is
theres my mother
theres my father
and ive never seen him smile before today
the waters warm..so much warmer than anything ive ever known.

and suddenly i feel.
at first its just my knee, and i look down
only, i cant look all the way down.
but i sorta do, and my mangled flesh blurs out of view
i cry because warmth has never been so painful before

i see my mother sending me off on my first day of school
the promise of something new, something big,
and all the hopes in the world for me
(i havent seen my mother in years)

and then theres nothing
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 1 comment