You have not known what you are.
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.

The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...


-Walt Whitman


26.1.11

dark passenger


The dark passenger slipped from me and through the gaps of my fingers, now silently drifting to the unknown and into the crowd beyond these walls. And soon it will be on everyone's mouth, in a loop on their prejudiced thoughts. Their lips will drip of the words I didn't dare speak out loud, contorted into sinister smiles I don't wish to behold.

Fear mocks what's left of my fortitude swiftly vanishing like the stars of the fading night. The daylight in turn will shine on me and I will burn--To be tested, down to the last tear I will shed. The cracks will grow and eventually reveal the monster and the hidden truth it holds. And it will cry like a hungry child in the depths of winter, sitting on the edge, between a reality and a long lost dream. Just there. Looking up the heavens stretching out above, waiting to be transformed, waiting for an absolution that may not come.

Has it reached you? The cold whisper tickling your unguarded mind? It finally slipped from my grasp and now it's out there, stepping on every sound and gliding through every lapse of reason. There's no way to get it back. Nothing left to do but to completely expose my palms and let everything fly, relinquish control, and wait... till it find its way back to me, and receive the kiss that would make me regret everything wrong that I have done...




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