Elucidating Questions

War is coming simply because it is time for a culling.

They say it themselves with shotguns resting on their shoulders

Y’just have t’cull ’em

There are far too many

Deer

Sheep

Rabbits

Ducks

Geese

Etcetera

Etcetera

Etcetera

Humans

The great swinging pendulum swings

As his eyes narrow to disappointed slits of light and colour and blackness

Make your choice

Pestilence or bloodshed

If we don’t kill them

They will overrun themselves

And the other creatures in their ecosystem

They said it themselves

Voice thin with convincing

They said it themselves and they stand by the truth of it

And,

If they are true and they are right

Then it must apply

To all things

Death is an error

Fault in the coding

Thus, it must be stopped before it can get out of control.

You do not solve a fire by pouring on more fire so it consumes faster.

One more time

They said it themselves.

For a short time in history

Mornings did not taste so bitter

Waking did not spell the end of the dream and the beginning of the nightmare

Truly in the air of the morning the feeling like

It

Could happen at any moment.

Like waking was worth it, like the nightmare could be fought if only with the ones the dreams insisted would fight along side

Waking is the moment the dream shatters

Billions of shards that in just one second ago made sense, had meaning, had reason

Reduced to small flashes of memory

And the moment is gone

Shot by the bullet of the morning

Shattered into the dust of reality.

Waking is when you didn’t just survive a roll over with your mum on the highway that made no sense,

But you also didn’t just have a conversation with her where you mutually understood eachother.

Waking is not knowing why the people in your dream love you but knowing, in that moment of shattered waking, that they don’t.

Waking is grasping in the enveloping darkness of the nightmare disguised in fictitious smiles and deceiving light

And finding nothing

But the loss of a dream

And the beginning of a nightmare.

Apologies are

Out of guilt asking for forgiveness relief of the guilt

Perhaps forgiveness not given is proof the action was unforgiven

And even actions said forgiven fester

So what was unforgivable I wonder it daily

I agonise over it daily that I don’t even know what unforgivable thing I did

I don’t even know.

Is that not even more unforgivable

Thus should I not never ask forgiveness

Because I know I should never

Be relieved of my guilt.

Do you ever wonder what hides underneath the quivering skin of the heart after you’ve beaten it shut

Nails and bolts

Chains and rust

It wasn’t pretty

Locked away

The stubborn beating thrumming away

My mind the constant

Devil’s advocate for every thing

I just hate being alone like this

But it doesn’t matter

Does it?

No.

And on it goes and on it goes

Seen doesn’t mean seen

It doesn’t mean heard

The heart’s beating must be stopped

Or this will keep getting worse.

My bus driver seems to know all the secrets my smile should have.

The same routes again and again I end up with the same people

She always tilts her head like she knows my smile isn’t there

And says hello, or good morning.

And I reply and despite the not smile I make sure it lives

She feels kind

I always end up with a bus driver

Sometimes I end up with two

There’s no way she knows anything

But the look on her face says she knows something

Brief

Integral

Human interaction

Twenty four hours since last sober?

And they posed it as an issue

Twenty four hours

One thousand nine hundred sixty eight

Ish

I’m probably sober in my sleep

Drunk or high

Why would I be able to handle

Any of this without being intoxicated by something

It’s not real

So why worry

She’s been gone

He’s been gone

How long

I wish he could be home for Christmas

I’d give up every single sparse moment of this awful season that makes me feel something

If he could be home.