THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
The time has finally come-
I have pieced together, with patience and silence and a clenched jaw, all of the fragments that burst apart-
Dont harden your heart... As in the wilderness...
It's been a long time and I got spiky and strange, time to open the cage, to restart, unshell, unfurl,
On Christmas Eve, I dream of a time when the no jobs, the bad jobs, the no cash, the no home, the broken heart will all be a memory
I'll retell it half heartedly, the same as I do now, talking about knives and tears and handfuls of pills, without an ounce of the dramatic, just the desire to bury, to soften and put away
I practice the stories now on the unsuspecting, preface them with a heavy sigh, try to hurry through the worst parts, they still come out strange but they are no longer necessarily defining
I don't think so
I think I lived enough in the meantime
I feel different than I ever felt before,
I never had a future I wanted behind any door, but now I can see them, and it was just real horror that took me there-
I still have a lot of poison in me- it may take a second hand to draw it all out, to soften the corners, to temper the insanity-
I'll keep some of it just for me-
I arrive whole unexpectedly, through nothing but time, nothing but patience, nothing but time, I arrive home and it's nowhere and it doesn't matter, just here, just now