Looking for something
I’ve never seen before.
Will I recognize it?
Or will it pass me by?
If I have never had,
then how am I defined
by this elusive thought,
or thing,
or human being?
Are you a spirit?
Out there,
there is something,
there has to be.
On the outside of my eye
I see you briefly,
your signs infinitesimal,
but I know you are there.
How can I
hold such certainty
for what has never been?
I smile in strange acquaintance
with the unseen.
Never thought,
in my wildest imaginations,
that I could make you real;
real as I’ve become.
Making every moment up
as I go along.
My fingertips
trace out this reality,
just a moment of clarity
in the chaos mind.
Am I still imagining?
Or has the whole
world
changed?
I don’t remember anything
ever looking like this
again.
Time is such a shitty friend;
it lies about your place
in its designs.
You think you’re in
the inner circle,
then you find yourself
looking in
from the outside.
Maybe I should never mind
and just keep on
keeping on
this path of mine.
Bored and boring
and slowly dying.
I think that I could be satisfied,
exploding in a billion stars
in the sky,
but it will be otherwise.
Light me up,
fill my brain
with more words
to feed unto this sacrifice.
I have no advice,
just moving my pen
to stay alive.
In between the letters,
I’m writing
my whole life.
HG – 2018
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