Poetry - The Breaking

 



Peel back layers of skin - 
Raw, exposed but not bloody.
Discover truths that died
When people took over the Earth, killing the dinosaurs
With cigarettes and coffee, a deadly habit,
A vice they learned to love.
Can we, a people, a race of skin
Accept this notion that we die
From the moment we scream into existence?
Too harsh on the weak and simple brain
Even though we use only 10% of it.
Time dropping, longingly, on windows like a Dali,
Forcing us to see ourselves fading
Black becoming grey to white to falling
     Rotting
     Destroy
Into that Void, the space of what we skin fear
And created.
Do you remember when we laughed?
Joy came in vending machines
And sex was dead, only touch was acceptable,
Permitted.
Now, it is bland, no flavor, stark
And we skin cry rivers
Our mistakes, our wars, refusal to accept this
Simple truth
To lie to ourselves, reminds us of our parents
Back in the day.
The cold set in, our cold, our unfeeling
My, yours, everyone’s fault.
This is a time to sing
Now that we understand what it means to live.
Swelled hearts, opening on their own,
Full to bursting, an outpouring of songs, phrases
Words, rhymes, love, love, murder, escape.
Can we ever go back to the time of Faerie?
Have we lost our connection, made of dreams
And licorice?
Why did we turn our backs?
Fear? Jealousy? Religion?
Can we ever go back to the simple time, this
Place of black and white, this Crossroads?
 
Do we die in silence?




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