Kill Zone   2 comments

It’s like ice sliding down my back.

There are waves of heat and this subtle pinprick feeling all over
and my mind is stuck in mud.

I am feeling like it could quite possibly be the end of the world.

And I’m arguing with myself because there is no one else here to take me to task.

The music playing is probably the only thing keeping me connected to this time and place.

The music, which comes in and invades thoughts like a cop finds his way through a crime scene. Checking out every possible angle even though all too much has already been decided.

My thoughts are the victim.

This is not my kill zone.

This is where I fall to pieces and some beat drags me back, dirty and bruised.

I don’t want to see your reasons.

I like the fact that for several minutes at a time, I am beyond logic.
I am some new format in which truth has triggered immediate, dramatic, chaotic results.

Don’t talk to me in your brutal tone, trying to get me to agree to things that you are just going to force on me later anyway.
Just let me bleed words that seem too random and reckless to ever bring energies together.

Words that will find secret locations, mapped out in the nightmares that have been edging my sleep for centuries because only when I am numb,
do I allow myself to take in any of this medicine;
this bitter mix of my inability to regret, to learn from mistakes because mistakes are like my favorite drug, my passion and my purpose,
along with some tripped out, subtle and wildly eager need to understand just how everyone else gets it

because I so don’t get anything.

Muscles tighten and I am reminded of the body I have lived a lifetime trying to bend, smearing its content in cracks and wiping the excess off underneath tablecloths so that no one sees me.

I am all over this place.

I am larger than the room I am in and I am breaking windows with my absent, mindless ranting.

I am hoping someone outside will catch me as I slink out of the frame that has been jammed around me,
holding me back and leaving me only for the taunting nature of all that I know.

Spend less time trying to understand, hoping to relate;
I swear to you all that this isn’t going to last forever.
If it’s up to me, it’s just about over.
And when I say “over” what I really mean is
“Just Wait”



2 responses to “Kill Zone

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  1. I’ve been there. It’s a strange continental drift that allows no corners in any rooms. Just keep the windows open in case you have to jump for it.

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