I may be someone you remember. I may have passed you by in the street…
Where I come from, there was merely enough room for two.
The days of hunger that we experienced walking hand in hand led us to the verge of life.
If there is anything left from that time, it is only myself – indestructable out of anger,blinded from mercy.
I invented thousands of doors and windows to build one by one each day.
I am begining to delaminate into dozens of beings which you know nothing of.
Wounds that never heal, I crawl bleeding, I carry a gift of a world in ruins for you.
Impregnated by the salt of tears, I remain motionless, I breathe toxic memories and am vibrant with somebody elses fear.
I can't even remember where I saw myself last, nor can I indicate the exact spot that I collapsed in.
Burried in the rubble of silence I fall to pieces at each attempt to be touched.
Do not drag me out, do not try to dig me up.
If you touch even a single day, the avalanche of years will burry me for all time.
I am a mirror, a reflection with no echo, a projection of pain and hatred.
Gagged with the past, burdened with other people's guilt, I am slowly emerging to the surface.
I am closing my life behind me, choking on the dullness of the moments that have passed.
"She was a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee. And evil was the hour when she saw, and loved, and wedded the painter. He, passionate, studious, austere, and having already a bride in his Art; she a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee; all light and smiles, and frolicsome as the young fawn; loving and cherishing all things; hating only the Art which was her rival;"
I really enjoyed my listen here today.. Scanning was my favourite - I liked the angular feel to the rhythm a great deal and the tension between that and the big pads..
I hunger for something, someone For that remembered rapture Nightmares decadent, dark in places deep Before me a chaparral of thorns Filled with caskets and dust
