Seven dates with breath 4th * 11/26/13

fourth date

Breathe, breathe, breathe and deeply breathe.

Then damn, short order, these hot feelings.

A rage a root-thunder appears,

performs some form of internal ventriloquy.

That makes me say, in problematic ways.

Makes me quote from impotent knowledge.

Makes me proselytize a view,

bound by polarizations

into a devotional beta-mind misery.

I will have to chew on that bone

for now as a before and an after.

By this situation, I feel locked out

of the now dominion,

never to truly fill in these hollow words.

I am preening at this game-face from the inside.

I am accepting time-spent as a proxy

for a suitable clearing to come forth.

This is all an experience of my free-fall logic

crashing into my child like invention

of conviction.

I am committing suicide so slowly,

others call it living.

I feel like a form junky,

demonstrating how alone I really feel I am.

Yet, I consider others’ staring at me

as a chance for intimacy.

I am still breathing

but now, vacantly,

half-heartedly so . . .