Rare for me to write these days...

[pomba gira]

(even though I just managed to complete the children's book I've been working on for years!) But when I do it comes out something like this:

The Other Side of Why

Make it work she said, from that otherside space in back, at the base of the skull, the place you squeeze to cast out demons. And I just laughed, 'cos what did she know? Where was she when I really needed her? Make it work. Nothing I couldn't have come up with on my own. No, what I needed help with was the How of it. The eternal iconic How that flashes from one synapse to the next like a demented lightning bug, illuminating the magnitude of your inadequacy. And after that maybe the Why, as in "...should I?", as in "...bother?" Why is the one to watch out for, favored weapon of innocent children, enhanced with endless variations and permutations. How is the wall you can't go over/under/around... but Why is the labyrinth you wander through from now until. Like I told her once: if I could find the other side of Why, How would become irrelevant. On the other side of Why... I would leave myself far, far behind, and fear nothing ever again.

just like then

here I am again

the place where abstractions turn and bite

where futility whispers

and depair awaits

and just like then

the way back hides

and just like then

I wake and find

the calligraphy of endless mistakes

traced across my skin

like a map to nowhere

engraved with my own sleeping hands

in the blood script of the damned

[freydis]

oh, wow.

this is really rather good.

[creatureofthenyte]

Hille, that was Awesome!

[pomba gira]

*blushes* thanks... I used to write reams of stuff when I was younger... don't seem to have the intense need to write now, prolly due to more emotional stability or at least better meds! Maybe I will get ambitious and dig up some old stuff... or REALLY ambitious & write more!

[Homicidalheathen]

A poem about slicing the ick out of oneself but it never goes away, very good