There are times in the night that are so long and so fearful that not even upon my demons would I wish this gripping fear and anxiety upon them or any another living soul. They feed on the slightest touch, even a glance or side stare and they’re back and I am human I am full of weakness and tortured pains. Crushing darkness like only those who have truly looked into deaths cold dark eyes can understand. A pain so encompassing and soul sucking that the very thought of it leaves a a foul taste in my mouth.
Then I am lost in sea of words that have feeling, as to say a true chemical touch like licking a light socket while dancing in the rain with your head on fire as they laugh and throw broken bottles at your feet at you, while you stumble and fall from grace.
These days are spent pretending to care, pretending to be alive and not just some walking corpse of a man used to be. A shell of a human I even want to be anymore, dancing with beggars and demons, used for shelter while giving shelter while needing shelter is a hard place to hide from. Not a good place to be nor a place or human I ever thought I’d see never the less live fully as a man my age… Life, love, cancer and disease are fickle bitches in the night and abusive masters during the day….
Gone are the days of wine and roses. Gone are the days where I care about how much I weight or the swagger of my step. Belittled finally to the point where I don’t care anymore. Sick to my stomach as I watch the fairy light twinkle and fade. Flickering from muse to muse then expect to be fed and bed then put fast asleep. In slender sheets of cotten lace and paper trace, pretty little liars make suck delicate treats to eat if you can balance thier fires.
“And then we all fall down.”