Sunday, March 27, 2016

"Timeless Part 4: Strings"

"Timeless Part 4: Strings"

The fringe.
Sourced by misfortune
I've binged on.
I've been gone
but my remnants are in
your line of sight.
Naivety teaches you
that my good nights
are when the room is silent
like violence needs
an audience.
Calling this the peaceful purchase.
The peace you've purchased.
The peace of purchase
but pieces surfaced
long before I checked in bags
or underwent the jetlag
proportionate to the distance traveled. 


Fringe
like frills
unraveled until thin
and fine.
Chills down the spine,
sore the neck
and bruised the shoulders.
Air colder than conditioned.
Thought I'd listen once I faced
thoughts that still just hunt and chase
and swipe
and swing
at life to bring
me lower than
this trench I've flooded.
Not long before rough and rugged
are the safest ways to suffer.
Strength not mustered.
Time not salvaged.
Lost in clusters.
Cracking.
Damaged.
Damned from boil to bandage
disadvantaged like I've planned this
while this far away. 


I've timed less
on the timeless.
The things that endure
were never as pure to me as pain.
Nothing stays quite like the stain
and my brain much like this train
is a bullet piercing thoughts trapped in the tunnel.
I appear undone
to the not quite whole
who prefer to poke holes
in hopes of saving their souls
from what none of us can outrun.
More outdone than un.
Less feeling for one
or a few feigning concern.
Took your turn
and took mine away
so you'll be blind the day
that I pick up and leave.
Sit and try to conceive.
Maybe we'll find reprieve in both ways. 


The shears again threaten the thread.
I tread haphazardly in navigation.
Nothing matters of the latter but the fringe.
Fatter in my binge.
The unhealthy has dealt me
a loose hand.
Thought of the truce
but it gets cold when I fold
so I play it out.
Ive laid it out
for no one to bear witness.
Purpose of the distance.
Punctuality like cavities
carving craters in each sentence.
Plane prescribed plain
to kill pain without the dentist
but the same plains from which
I abscond and abstain
in search of the sane
might be where my portion remains... 















Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

No comments:

Post a Comment