|
hiding the wound |
|
|
|
|
|
The corridor is long and deceiving. It can seem as though you are
being moved along by a conveyer belt, unable to slow the pace, only capable of an
acceleration which would feel worse.
|
All the while you will be tempted or terrified by unrestrained
visitations. Curly Black hair like a subterranean root system brushes your face , your
bare skin and your exposed soul. Yes these things will get inside you.
|
You may resist and feel them wriggling forcefully into you, or allow
them to pass through you as a stone dropping past the surface and into the depths of a
placid lake. Either way they penetrate you.
|
The moans of the other in the arms of your lover, sounds you never
wanted to hear- amplified, vibrating through everything. The dark and childlike fears of
your worst enemy revealed. There is no running back, only running in place as the conveyor
moves forward.
|
The sounds, buzzing, gurgling, alien... |
|
Trying to make their way into you. |
|
At some point you realize that when you resist, these apparitions
wear you down, grinding you, like a hapless swan caught in the wheel of a water mill. In
this factory of light you are reducing yourself to a product of fear.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
When the doorway to immortality opens to you,
there is no hiding the wound.
|
You will not be admitted without your nightmares.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
In a moment things may crystallize. |
|
|
|
|
Those who decide to become immortal cannot even wear their
preferences to this ball.
|
|
|
|
Life Eternal
is life
in heaven
and hell
and every pit stop in between
all at once.
|
|
|
|
You are
the hideous and the glorious. |
|
|
Creation
is
the hysterical
schizophrenic
need to escape
one part
of one's own self.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Rebirth. |
|
|
|
Choosing
not to be
everything. |
Into the blaring white light of the hospital...
|
|
pulled by the head
into the tormented world.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|