Monday, June 8, 2009

It Ends

... and the feeling is just as intense as when it began;
but in a different way.
The pain is a sharp blow to the throat, with a cast iron skillet.
You want to believe you were not creating fiction this time.
It was not just another manic episode...
you look around inside the twisted world you call your head, but you see nothing that isn't all made up.
Flesh is real.
Flesh is the only thing I know.
It's the only thing I can touch...
everything else is just an illusion.

It ends...
and then,... it begins again.


  1. I know nothing. . .but i feel so very much...and it seems you do as well. I never leave your writing fully satisfied. . .always, I leave with a million questions and absolutely no need for answers! How BRILLIANT!

  2. I've never heard it put that way before. I do know this for myself... if I were to paint it picture perfect, everyone would still draw a different conclusion.