apologizing to the man sweating whiskey sitting in the aisle seat.
in bathroom mirrors you face a million of your fears
the warning light turns on
the pilot speaks and his voice is shaking at the same speed as
me
my trembling
hands my weak
nature
cursing at myself then praying asking god to forgive me for
all the dark things I've ever done and did
all this tension
is building up
like a volcano on the edge
dying to erupt.
when we finally touched down, i felt no different
the high was : a high- and the low feels the same as it always does
the tide was still high and the spirit was still here:
screaming in public :
"my god!
is it on me?
my god!
is it inside me?"
if you wish to die simply stop responding to the spirit.
everyone is watching me gasp and, yes
the haunting feeling you feel is real, it will stay forever it will : l a s t
i find myself face down-
waiting to believe.
sobbing on the wooden floor
i find myself face down-
waiting for the breakthrough.
on the ground on the ground
the plane touched down
and my spirit turns into a living metaphor
and i hit the ground
not running
standing for hours in front of the bathroom mirror
then back down to the floor
on the ground i felt it just a little bit
- pressure lifting
- ear
- aches
- turbulent heart
- heart quakes
starving and not hungry my body wont even rot
the way it should.
and god..god was silent in my
head
in my head
not a crumb
on the floor
not a knock on the door
in my head
on the floor
god was god and god was
s i l e n t
in my head
on the floor
inside my mind
my mouth
is no
use
now.
on the ground
waiting for the lifting.
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