Pillow of Darkness

 

I lay on a pillow of darkness

Pure black

Except for the tiny flecks of light

Moving in random patterns

I imagine intersecting lines

at 35-degree angles from each other.

they fade intermittently

and form other shapes

I cannot remember the shapes

I cannot describe them

 

xxx

 

I feel as if I disappear.

perhaps for a few moments

perhaps forever.

I become invisible

a thing that was

but is no more.

 

Xxx

 

I hate the graveyards

the long lines of tombstones

lawns overgrown with weeds

decaying presents for the dead,

weathered teddy bears and deflated balloons.

I hate the roses left to decompose in the sun,

To be later thrown in metal dumpsters

like forgotten dreams

unspoken conversations.

I hate all of it.

the sales people

the ground crew men in dirty pants

the people looking for solace amongst quiet bones.

 

xxx

 

i want freedom

water

waves

I want to slide into oblivion like the other nameless souls

come and now gone.

Will anyone find our music

our words

our small attempts at transformation?

 

xxx

 

I lay on a pillow of darkness

floating somewhere between ocean and desert

between hot and cold

between life and death

The desert now blooms with newfound moisture,

purple flowers and panting lizards,

mermaid clouds.

The oceans begin to sing,

singing of sun trees and orange fruit that drip with sugar,

forming puddles

lakes and creatures that would become myths

and great dreams and nightmares.

 

xxx

 

I will become nameless

i will descend into the chaos I came from.

Into the blood,

the dirt,

the blackness

the specks of light in strange patterns

the nothingness that somehow becomes something.

 

xxx

 

Out of the chaos I am whole

for a moment,

such a short moment.

I am a sentence,

a name,

two sentences and then another,

and then one year, and then another.

I emerge from rough ideas

and soft kisses

from pain and chaos

from dirt and blood

from stories that were lost by people I never met

from stories that may be told long after I’m gone

I am all the people that are now lost,

forgotten,

buried in the blackness

in the darkness

in the soil that made me,

the waves that quenched me

the sun which fed me,

the same sun which crushed and bruised

and landed on my lips

that touched my eyes

and made me whole,

the sun that pulled me out of the darkness

for a moment,

such a short moment.