TransparentAll I am is just another transparency, another set of developments of store-bought bones of somebody I never thought I never knew
I am just another X-ray of a bedtime story told to a Chemo patient bombarded by searchlights trying to find what's out of place
Just another photograph of a ghost in somebody's machine
Another see-through messenger who got shot by accident by a somebody with a loaded tongue pointed at the man in the mirror behind me
Another spiritual spirit praying to something I know doesn't exist except in my head, but my head is all that's real to me and my invisible self
Just a monkey wrench in the cogs of life, a spanner in the works of somebody's daydream of a better world
A scanner darkly viewing my own insides like the covers of a book by Philip K. Dick telling of a see-through skeleton in a glass coffin that nobody even knows is there
I am everything you cannot see, and neverything you never wanted to
I am all the small things the experts say don't exist
All the toys in the attic of your mind, tossed into a cardboard box and forgotten but not lost in the shuffling card game that is the mind of its own of the mouths of children
Just a lost soul in a fishbowl on a bookshelf in a library of obituary notices in an empty house
I am a man made of glass who throws stones at himself
I am a photo negative of a holy ghost's imaginary friend
I am transparent.
There's an incredible amount going on in this piece, with the words that you use and the manner in which you choose to use them. It's sad and it's striking, because you pinpoint one of the most profound fears that humans have, and a pain that most people feel at one point. You bring artful and insightful definition to our own vulnerability.
ReplyDeleteAs touching as the piece is, I'm left hoping it isn't how you really feel.
No, no, no, this is just a snapshot of something I think we all feel at times throughout our lives, not how I actually feel at the moment. Although I have felt like this many times in past.
ReplyDeleteAm I but the raindrops evaporating to the sunshine.
ReplyDeleteOr am I a bird in flight, long past gone never to be remembered again.
Either way I am all and nothing left only to be someone something in my own mind, Perhaps until someone notices me once again and calls on me.
It is but the circular motions of our minds affected by the range of emotions of the day, week, month, year and of course others interactions.
Good solid piece of thought work
that leaves one reflecting on ones own insecurity's.
The highest kind of quality.
ReplyDeleteA marvel.........Thank you.