Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

The Flood

In the back of my mind
Smolders a fire that waits
To burst into being.
Sinister sneers and
The feeling of bones
Against my teeth
Litter my hours and
Teeter the seconds
Off the edge.
I wait for the losses
To flood back in a
Rash of painful migraines
That will forever
And further change the way
I view the world.
But as I wait, I follow
My stomping grounds into
A gray, personal hell
That I once mistook for
Home and comfort.
I desire to know,
My swiss cheese memory
Says no and denies me
The truths I seek.
I am a lost little girl,
Trapped in an adult body.
Forever waiting to remember
So I can grow up
And never change.
So I can be complete without feeling so
God damn faulty.
The ruins of my mind...
A cave of wailing children
And haunting fingers
Reaching out to touch
What isn't theirs.
Monstrous voices
Beckoning the innocent
Into safety, while swallowing
Them up and shutting them down.
Where have I come from?
And why no memory of it?
I walk the shallow path
Of reminiscent fail and
Wonder why ignorance is bliss
When I already know the ugly honesty?

3-2-11


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The Flood

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