Looking For That Right Kind Of Deception

Ziperovich

 

Flames to light candles maybe house fires, fireflies in the night remain silent as they drift but they open up the world so that light expounds, so that light can be, so that light can be free

I might be something that I shouldn’t be, maybe something I wouldn’t be devoid of all the fucking tragedy, all the ragged sleep that I’m privy to, all the nights I spend with myself thinking how my existence is so trivial

All this self-deprecation keeps me awakened, my heart beating fast like the horrible quaking at a train station, widespread debasing, chasing my one love that hates me, no more pain and I’ll give you my soul so you can taste me tasteless hole, appreciate my waste, my facelessness, my unrealistic and moribund goals

The clouds cover the stars and the cities are made of bricks and blood and I wonder as I wander through this interminable mud, trying to lift my feet but my feet are stuck in sticky blood and my soul is deep under, somewhere where I can’t find the place in it where there exists love and comfort

I know love like knife wounds and I know the pleasure of agony but it takes a strong set of arms, the arms of God, to satisfy me, God or the Devil, so intermingled, I want what I need but what I can’t have so I am without a breath, not a single, dying, breathless staring at the sky, find my mind baring itself unquestioning about the ramifications of when it’s time to give up trying to fly and start trying harder to die

I don’t pray but I prey upon myself, the light in my eyes diminished into something less than health, lack of spiritual wealth, determined to stay on this course until there is nothing left but a hoarse voice and the whispers of the condemned pleading I attempt to rearrange myself into something because they couldn’t arrange themselves

But sometimes you’re lost for decades in deserts and sometimes without water you see something, a beautiful mirage, pain immutable all scars, and you reach out with your bare skin toward the sky and all you find is what you left behind

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