Trembling

I thought it was the sunlight I was afraid of. The tenuous tremors of having my shadows stripped away from me at long last under the howling brilliance of your soothing glow. The embrace of arms I almost didn’t believe in, for they had only ever existed in my dreams.

You, were only ever a dream.

A euphoria without face or form, just an instinct in sync in me, assuring, that there was a blade which cut through midnight’s velvet touch. That the stars were prophets foretelling your love.

And so I thought it was the light I was afraid of. Refusing to admit ownership of the fear that, having survived the storm unto the rainbow, I would follow your scent into the clouds only to discover that rainbows don’t exist. Terror buried itself deeper in my heart, exorcising the last vestiges of hope from their sacred coves bordering the open sea of my soft place. The tender string only your fingers could pluck.

I thought I was afraid of this moment- to discover that I didn’t measure up. That the dream had found me, but I was immune to miracles. I thought this was my fear…

Until I saw a man with guitar heart- it was ripped to shreds. In front of his kids, he shed all his tears, had nowhere to store em, no receipt or meds. Before he said a word, I looked in his eyes and I knew… This is what it looks like when the sun is violently torn away from the moon. When echoes are pillaged for their sound, when a DNA strand is unwound and rent in two. He wore his loss like a cloak; his agony like a heavy, second skin. Misery adorned him with her cruel diadem; his head dripped with the stinging mists of hellfire royalty.

And that’s when the veil dissolved into the abyss.

Away for now the form of man.

Behold the true fear where it stands.

… for your light to suddenly burn out, even as I am dancing in the midst of it.

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The Juvermeinx: Confessions

I can feel it winding in from the outside. That cold stream, curdling with hell’s feces en route to pollute me in my denial. Moses on his soap box from God, come to cast me as a curse- Pharoah is to be made an example of, but he is to still be pitied for it is not entirely his fault. He is not the mechanism of his destruction.

I am.

In brightest day and darkest night, I feign evil must needs take flight, but woe the dawn of winter’s summer light, when damnable Plague gapes merciless jaws in unyielding bite!

I am not the hero… I just wear his cape. Make no mistake, no mistake has been made, it’s a tin raid on the roadway to give your heart back to you before you realize who took it. To steer you back to life in the woods, before yellow brick roads become your undoing. The only redemption in daring adventure is to the listener who camps ‘neath the firelight of misguided ambition… immunity to ammunition assertively ascertained by freedom to disregard fairytales as laughable children’s institution.

So you see, though I be yet healing, I am also their pollution.

An unending loop of unimpressive death. Through lips sealed like the societal tomb they bury themselves in, I suffer strangulation even as I choke. Or through yawning maw, and jaguar claws with an artful dodge I steer them towards the mirror. Not to behold themselves, but to see through it… to catch the faint glimpse of the One Life the rest of us are reflecting multitudinously.

That cold, lifeless stream passes me by… eagerly racing ’round mountain’s bend to engrave its sepulchral signature on my cenotaph… proof that this life is the final escape from the truth which is inescapable.

In a world obsessed with a Goodness void of God, I am the plague… or perhaps such loftiness of observation is undue for one of my position.

I am Plague.
I am alone.
This is the way it must be.