Life or death? Heaven or Hell? Unification or Separation? The fruition of fates send echoes whispering demands of a choice to be made, to pick a side on this unraveling line for soon all will consumed at the crumbling of this very reality. But the choice has never been that simple, for way to long have I had only seen things from two separate sides, to differing perspectives, to be forced to lay down a law between one or the other, to seal fates from such a limited perception – but no longer can I live this way. These moments that pass now are like glassened goodbye’s, fragile farewells, that are so much more transparent as the cold begins to settle in. Because while I know there even now, there are still decisions to be made, I also know that there are many others being made without me, outside my perception, outside my control, outside my reality – so I just lay here and watch it all come undone, clinging and clenching onto these final moments, but with only one hand, for even now part of me remains far too ready to let it all go. For in these darkened hours that outline traces of this tattered line across the night sky, I let the brisk chill of this autumn air embroider the very foundation of my lungs as I instill it all in hopes of erasing my last mistakes. But even as I breathe in, and the blood circulates like street cars, coursing through my cells and veins, feelings and noises much more devastating find their way in, the reality to have seemingly come so far, but simultaneously having gone nowhere at all – like the very soul of a cycle, lost in the streets of this convulsing reality, soon to fall victim to the very fates it sought to serve, nailed to the very same chair I had once been strapped to.
But even though I am no longer strapped to the seat, forced to bear witness to the on-goings of my surroundings, I still remain drowning; like caught in an entanglement of red lights beneath darkened waters unable to create the reality that I envision, whilst also not ready to escape to the others just behind the bend of the fruition of fates that are soon to be bestowed. So in these fragile and fleeting moments, that both proceed the initiation of this evolution, whilst precede it’s end and the ascension – I let it all play out from what remains of my heart and mind, shall desire. For to exist the way I exist is to not be bound by the same confides as others, but simultaneously, to be bent and pulled in violent ways that others may never endure, on the verge of breaking, with the only option to just lay here, stuck in the concaves of my own mind. Concaves that haunt me in ways that reveal what remains of the fear that I once swore to wash away, and like an exorcism, I go through them like a nightmare – setting the hourglass for in the event that I am lost, time itself will pull me out. Visions of what became of sacred love and promises, and whispers of temptations and lulls that bring about my more serpent-like, sinister states; dreams of what it all lead to, and as I come to, exhausted, like being starved of air, all I can do is lay here – in the company of these memories and of your lies. And if I died alone here, would you even care? A double sided knife in one hand held to my throat, but I am soon to realize that my mind alone is like shattered glass – cutting and splicing what remains of my sanity, yet simultaneously, the very fears that had found their way in, that have sought to keep me still, that keep me from trying what twisted and tattered taste of love remains on this line – remembering everything you had done to me.
