Question Everything

It would seem

To be American

Is death Americana,

As the patriot’s paradox unfolds,

We were born equals,

Raised individuals,

And died together,

Alone.

They say poetry’s dead,

So that means we’re just

Ravaging it’s cadaver,

And I’ve never been one

For necrophilia,

But the masochists

I see before me,

Dick deep in death,

Just keep exhuming

One after another,

And presuming

To steal the taste

Of a great’s last breath.

They croon and they preen

Like vultures leave bones,

And we,

The murder scene.

        Where do you think the darkness comes from? She smirked through the fog of night. We are the darkness. We perpetuate it every day through our actions.

       I smiled, as strands of her pitch black hair assimilated with the shadows around us. Rivers of sin, beautifully wrought on porcelain skin, they added iron to the idea. 

       In order to have shadows, you need a light to cast them, so perhaps we’re not the darkness, we’re the light.I grinned back, halfhearted attempt to keep the conversation upbeat. But then human nature would be the object blocking the sun, wouldn’t it, dear?

       She loved the darkness in us all in an odd way, you see.  Just as children are drawn to horror movies through clenched finger-shades, she was drawn to the shadows of the heart.  Like sun and moon, we share all but hue. We both smiled at the thought, and continued on.

  Silence devoured us as we walked through the midnight chill, and my heart became leaden.  I turned to see her smile, but there was nothing, only a whisper of a breeze. 

          But the darkness always takes us, darling.

It’s so cold these days

Like freeze frame,

Before we melt away,

Before we see that

Goddamn mosquito

Homing in on our

Throaty varicose

Placebos.

The fucking world

Just wants blood

You see,

And they will always

Be looking to fuck

You and me.

So the question stands,

Are you gonna put the

Shank in their livers;

Or get gang-raped,

As self-deluded

Prisoners,

Breathing freely,

Yet not living free?

But remember;

Even in December,

      You are

            Ashes and

                Napalm.

       And your very footfalls

       Can scorch free the Earth.

Hell was in between seconds, a moment of realization where nirvana stole time and space’s context, and the dimensional fabric seemed to twist in place.  With the stench of four drinking days pervading my clothes, and sobriety still lost in the madness, you dropped your key on my chest.

My eyes opened, I stumbled to my feet, slurred words making nonsense of nothing vomited out my mouth.  You turned and looked at me, there was nothing left in the eyes where I had once forgotten the world, and where souls had entwined on astral planes. 

“So.. Yeu’rrh.. Jus’ givin’ uhp then?” Swaying back and forth, eyes barely open, yet I was still staring into yours.  You opened your mouth to say something, and in that moment, hellfire stole my heart, as your eyes spoke quicker.  Darkness claimed me.

Some days its just better to never wake.

I’ve lost all hope of sanity.  We live in a world so coldly rational, yet freezingly irrational at the worst of times that the only salvation lays in psychosis.  Wandering astral planes, I witnessed the decline of civilization as humanity’s mind stopped seeking expansion, and contentment’s own hand of contempt stole away with it’s heart, leaving it to dim and implode as a dying star. No conclusion can be drawn but to seek higher ground lest the floodwaters steal us away.