Even when I know better I tumble down the rabbit hole and find the bottle, says, "Drink me!" Of course I do.
Delusion
You make me your slave,
Paint my eyes with false colors,
Tell me your true lies.
Why do I believe?
I woke up today, again
You brushed me with sweet
Falsehoods. I want them.
God help me, I do want them.
I'll do anything.
Written December 21, 2008
First Posted April 4, 2009
this poem speaks to me because i feel this too. there are days....
ReplyDeleteand there are hours.....
and there is that tank rolling over the sand toward me... i feel it.
thanks for putting this craving into words. it keeps me coming back.
May your flattening not be beyond all joy.
DeleteLoving you.
I am no longer reconciled to my ideals about truth. Truth hurts. I keep coming back to the line "true lies". What IS that? What is a true lie? This is such a provocative piece. Sometimes I get so lonely I'll take ay scrap bits of caring, although knowing they aren't really for me. I think I remember reading this piece when last posted. Did I? Wonder what I said then.
ReplyDeleteMs Words, you can always check because I give you the date of the original posting. You did not comment on that post, whether you read it or not. I presume if I post as a second reprise I would refer to both earlier postings. It could be you remember the photo which I used before and don't keep track when.
DeleteI understand that kind of loneliness and can only be grateful I no longer suffer in that way. I am more the guy who protects his singularity any more. I don't want to deflect my trajectory that much. I am sitting here alone, woke alone, with the music of "the book channel" running in the background and feel content except for the part where it cannot last.
As for "true lies"... A myth is a true lie.
ReplyDelete