Deja-Vu you never knew?

And We All Have Been Here Before


I keep telling you I cannot stay, not even for the likes of you I'll never hold, not as dear as your particular manifestation...and my feet remain hovering and feeling nailed, just inches to the ground that could call my toes forth to become rooted in their earth. You're awaiting some kind of verdict you expect to be terrible, almost any excuse to discard supposedly ignorant bliss for the emptiness in a delusional state of lonely knowing...and the smooth stones give you no way to escape, you who used to slip between the cracks in this living with such stealth and ease it could only breed suspicion among the superstitious. I warn you it's not your time, that this existential madness so full of barren bitterness is more unreal than the joy you're afraid not to avoid...and your stare into me remains like your supposedly rotting hopes, wedded to abyss and convinced I can only be swallowed and subsumed by its all-consuming interest in your solitary existence.

I remind you I'm a volunteer here, by your side with all willingness and hope to maintain disinterest in being thoroughly uninterested in the slightest risk...and you keep saying it's just too dangerous, you can't let me risk it, how unethical it is to jump in the fire and ask love to follow. I snort, gently call bullshit on that stinking belief that needs to feed on your fears of abandonment to have faith in itself...and quietly let you know I've had quite enough of wasting care on the issues and tissues unimportant as any glaring red herring. I explain I know how consequence goes, and why I signed up for more than nothing but the good times until they end...and you still won't listen, certain by now my vows to remain are just cruel measures that assure the final severance will render you unto cinders. Not a note in what you're hearing in what I say is true...and I wonder what I'll say when it's my turn to sit where you sit, in your trembling point of view too used to despairing to allow itself to look up with hope.

The sky turns downcast above us, and I wonder why this waiting room is so open to the indifference of the sky...but I know how the axiom goes, which is why it's no surprise to realize the ground's suddenly giving my argument no support at all...for I'm falling into your eyes again, and your fear of hurt can only isolate the invader your defensiveness treats me as being. I know how invitations can be rescinded while we're giving them, cancelled without notice long after they've been extended...but I never knew your terror could consider my presence so expendable, what a threat honesty and sincerity could represent until you threw the trapdoor. A cynical sigh escapes my lips as I realize I'm on the outside looking in again, shite in your eyes and worse than excrement...and wonder how many lives I've wiped away from my line of sight like the stains left on any piece of used toilet paper, in manner more thoughtless than my awareness can stand to acknowledge as inherently unjust on some occasions. Everybody pays...and I wonder how much more it'll cost me, when I find myself back where some of us are stuck forever.


Will we know who we are then, to ourselves and each other...or remain fearful doppelgangers?...Samuel Bear Davis...

Wow.

I love the way you write .. a true poet at heart.

...danke! My mother was the real poet, I just like Leonard Cohen and surreal meta-fiction too much...but glad you dug this, might have to post here more often...

Absolutely! At the very least, it would distract me from my "trembling point of view too used to despairing to allow itself to look up with hope".

And in case, you're wondering, my favorite line was " I warn you it's not your time, that this existential madness so full of barren bitterness is more unreal than the joy you're afraid not to avoid".

Wish I could write something more meaningful instead of just quoting you, but honestly, my abilities in the area of poetic expression are sadly lacking. Too stuck in my head, attempting to avoid the pain of life. Part of me knows it's unreal.... and yet, I'm so caught up in the illusion. Thanks for expressing some of that for me, in such a beautiful way.

....cool, just let me know if I ever go overboard with your kind invitation. An hm, how does Anthrax put it? "Apologies if you relate," and mine as well for knowing too well what levels of self-imposed hell this tries to describe. Oh, and don't confuse beauty with truth too much..for your words are both, and I'm just both glad and sad mine gave you a perspective you can relate to and some willingness to share yours. You do have a poetic twist of mind, I can tell that much from your reaction...and I hope to learn more about how the world looks through your eyes from what words you share here...