Last night,
I felt it again.
I thought it would take me downwards.
I reached down into the depths,
Felt of it once more.
Then pulled back.
Lost myself in self preservation.
Pulled at the robotic hand,
Felt it and the internal mechanisms.
I pulled it onto me,
Let it metal.
And then,
To free myself,
I took my own hand,
And used it,
To create contrast.
On skin.
Took words from others,
Softness,
MOUTHINGS FROM GLORIOUS FRIENDS.
Rubbed them on me,
They left marks,
Of beautiful bruise,
Which again was contrast,
To the damaged blue of reality.
.
.
.
speak to the dark angels
I felt it again.
I thought it would take me downwards.
I reached down into the depths,
Felt of it once more.
Then pulled back.
Lost myself in self preservation.
Pulled at the robotic hand,
Felt it and the internal mechanisms.
I pulled it onto me,
Let it metal.
And then,
To free myself,
I took my own hand,
And used it,
To create contrast.
On skin.
Took words from others,
Softness,
MOUTHINGS FROM GLORIOUS FRIENDS.
Rubbed them on me,
They left marks,
Of beautiful bruise,
Which again was contrast,
To the damaged blue of reality.
.
.
.
speak to the dark angels
posted by Molly Bloom at Saturday, November 25, 2006
3 Comments:
lovely. 'damaged blue of reality.' just lovely
lovely maybe. certainly the words ar lovely but the content i find a little disturbing. i mean, what exactly is it that you have 'felt again' and that exists 'down in the depths'. no, not lovely as such but enigmatic and a little scary.
Thankyou michael. That is very kind of you.
Shadowlor - thankyou shadow. I like the contrast between reality and fantasy which exists for me.
CJ - yes, there is a mix between disturbance and beauty. It is in the eternal flux of life.
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