There are not fingers to get a grip on this emotional panic attack. It splashes over me in a sick wave without warning, immobilizing, squeezing the spirit to liquid, evaporating through my skin. Nothing remains but the heavy pain of unnameable hardness in my chest, my gut, this awful taste in my mouth.
I put her face on it, for she is the root in my soul – though I know, in the back porch light of this raving vortex of mine, that it’s much older than the essence of her that I have etched so deeply into the tree of my inner life. The catalytic drink to bring the seed to bloom.
How did I get here, in the heat of the sun, blindly reaching out for her hand? She hides behind the black veil of silence, invisible mystery holding my breath on her lips. I feel her inside me, and I am fooled, thinking she is near. Peering through a keyhole into darkness, crying for her hand, she is offering it to me, she whispers – but there is nothing for me to hold. Only her dark silence and our mingled hope.
Years have passed since I first lost sight of her – since she slipped away to her secret place in a firestorm of pain and mad panic. Can I remember her smell, always in the corner of my eye, in the pounding of my heart, always waiting for the impending moment, I see her everywhere. I smell her in my own skin. There is no escape. Am I left to this agony until she finds me? How long until the heart bleeds dry? Not even her voice, a kiss to my ear, to soothe me. I wait in silence, remembering her eyes, her mouth, her skin, her love in my heart – going mad…
In my panic, I ruin her memory with strange flesh and desperate lies, stealing the love of good women to ease the lonely ache and the fear of never seeing her again. Offer my love in a shallow, empty box when she turns her back, when she’s not sleeping on my tongue, my words for her, when my hope fails and my loneliness drowns me.
Turn to another who loves me with a true heart, to suck her goodness from the loins until she is empty like me. I am a vampire, aching for the sunlight, preying on innocent love to bathe my broken heart in the soft, soothing wash of mother’s milk. I leave skeletons in my path.
These years have sunken my cheeks, this lack of appetite, wired my nerves to a narcotic matrix of desperate substance abuse, swimming in booze and smoke I render my mind subconscious, beyond feeling, flesh – beyond living – I induce madness, confusion, with chaotic force. Subdued will, force the hand to move, to feed or die, push the mind to bury itself, reactions dulled to vacant eyes.
Break free, motherfucker!
Snap out of it before your bones creep right out of your skin! Vacant eyes, lazy smile – harden to stone. Fuck off. Get me a priest. I want this voice exorcized.