Friday, February 4, 2011
I'm not leaving no matter how loud your screams of hate may get. I'm not leaving and going out into this world of black eyes staring blankly at my misfortune. At my failed attempt at a dream. I see the way they soften their mouths at my sadness. I see you wanting to make me whole again... As you wish I'd find a friend. You want me to run to that? Your hate tastes sweeter. Your hate has feeling. Their sympathy at my pathetic gait has no life. It has no weight. I'm not running away from my destruction or the forgotten me. I'm running into my self like a cannon meeting the target. Like a child's smile of hope for approval. Like the salty taste of dirt a tear leaves in your mouth... I can taste my disgrace. I have faced this dirty demon and his evil face. I can be what I am and you can leave running for the sun. You run away? You be alone with your hate if you must! Don't leave that burden on me for my soul is much too weak to adjust. I'm only particles of dust left to settle. Softly and slowly falling into place.
Posted by Matthew Marchant at 3:12 PM