To Live the Sharpest Life

Tonight I can not seem to find my way. Bits and pieces of my story are strewn across the floor and none of the letters are fitting together to form words .. none of the words are fitting together to form sentences. My life's blood torn and scattered across the floor and I can not seem to gather the pieces all together before my breath escapes across my lips sending them fluttering away from my grasp. I can not seem to hold the air within my lungs long enough before I have to exhale the waste and seek the sustenance again. Damn me for my needs .. damn me for my mortality.

Beauty.. why have you forsaken me? Why have you hurt me? Why have you left me? I am confused and alone. Are you fallible? Are you mortal? Have I wronged you in giving you divinity? Are you truly diseased for touching this mortal coil? The black rot creeping over your beautiful skin as reality's plague turns your succor to dust? Or is it that I can not see the whole for my own humanity? Is it that my eyes .. so wasted with horror ... can not comprehend the vastness of your being .. and filling in the blanks I have failed in my limited imagination. I would pluck them from my skull for this betrayal. I would rid my body of their treachery .. shed myself of their weakness if I had even a notion that it would bring you back to me in all your glory.

Is it wrong to believe that it is possible? Is it wrong to stretch towards a good that is not cowardly .. that is not full of fear? Is it wrong to aspire to be better than I am .. have I set my sights too high to attain and must I then fall repeatedly back into the filth .. more exhausted and more dirty with every attempt.

How do I balance this colossal aria .. such breadth as I can barely comprehend even now? Am I a god that I am expected to hold this weight across my shoulders? How am I to stand beneath it .. and if I should ... how will it leave me marked in its wake? Will I have lost my touch with humanity? Will I seem apathetic in my vast knowledge and ability? Will I rise above it all and lose the memory of the struggle itself? Or is that the very nature of this beast .. that it is the balance itself that is the goal? To be forever caught between humanity and divinity ... struggling beneath the scale.

I do not understand this pain. It is like no other. I have no masochistic tendency for it. There is no endorphin to ease the experience. From its height I have experienced its depth. And as its heights are infused with all one might require .. its depths are the epitome of all that one can not survive.

I am tired. The kind of tired I do not want to wake up for. The kind of tired that takes the will to live and drains it with no tourniquet to staunch the exanguination. The last of my desire expended in trying to save a word from the letters that keep escaping me. If I could but save one .. just one. Perhaps it would be my answer .. perhaps it would show me the way to understanding this loss of faith. If not the answer .. at least a clue.

But what happens when I have no more desire to fuel the last of my attempts? What happens when I am empty and in my aloneness I forget why I aspired to be something different in the first place? What happens when I am too tired to try one more time? What happens when even the anger deserts me and I stop asking the questions and I stop seeking the answers .. what happens when I lay down and rest my head finally allowing sweet sleep to overtake me and give me peace in its finality?

I am .. so tired. And the letters will not form the words and the words will not form the sentences and I have tried so many things .. so many things but one. I have yet

... to sleep.


©2009 Written in Memory of the Words of Beauty