Like Love

I guess you could say, 

That when she left, 

She smeared my heart in purple deep; shadowed. 

And then, as the rain, seemed to melt the holograms around me, 

I noticed how some things were changed forever, 

And others forever, would remain; 

Like Love. 

Questions permiate on this fire escape with coffee and wind. 

"Heartless" plays, making me smile to myself; this song reminded me of her last I heard it. 

I had thought to myself, "how could I have been so wrong?", 

But dismiss the egoic question, as Ariel seeks to finish putting pieces together. 

Will she ever be done? 

The space to myself, is a processing of just so much, 

As so much continues to fill up who I am, 

As I search still for a resting place, 

In this world of my life. 

Looking out, I see a world buzzing by, and so many things I don't want anymore, nor want to be a part of; 

I search my mind for reasonable solutions. 

"I'm sorry", I say to myself within, consistent with my notion that I've let myself down. 

Perhaps that's a mean thing to think. 

We have let eachother down. 

Ourselves. 

Perhaps that is just real. 

What is in me, is soft, and windy, like whisps of serene over tall grasses, 

And infinite dream; 

A dream that died in some parts of so big a land. 

Maybe what makes me different is how much I long for home; but not here. 

This has never been it. 

Hope never died though. It remained alive. In every life lost, and in every war won, the past would never cease to be what our human light brought to it. 

No, nor, how our own shadows would be vessels to snuff it out, oh my. 

Yet, hope, in nuances created over time, emerging like symphonies and years 

Of blood, and sweat; repressed, our pains would thrive, and though weakening, our hope, would fight to stay alive. 

I have watched her go silent; 

Less, and less, and less to say. 

Seeing almost everything now, and now the getaway is simply to fly free home again, through notes, and chords, that may still remind her, 

Where the sacred exists and can be found. 

It is her home now. 

But she dies and apologizes to herself, 

That she's not so good with the "down-here" stuff; 

Not so good assimilating to a people that don't recognize in her, what to them is foreign; 

But I've lived here all my life. 

Things tie me. I let them. 

Like my mother, though I need to leave. 

What's here anymore for me? 

A city and a land, I can not call home. 

Amongst millions and yet alone. 

Fevers burn, while I sit here, out looking the city, seeing how much none of it belongs to me. 

30 years. 

That's how long it's been. 

And I feel like I am just getting out of prison and trying to make a life for myself in a world it didn't used to be. 

Purpose and drive carry me

Follow me, 

Like breath, so deep, it won't separate from me. 

Yet, I have been lost here so many times, 

As though Alice, but with less fortune; 

Stuck mazing a hole, when above, people burn. My land burns, and I can't for the life of me get out; 

Like a sick joke, 

Watching, it all...

So like tracing falls, and lucid dreams, it is an acid-trip I take in my sleep, 

Feeling the still screaming underneathe 

Of wanting to get free, so I can climb, climb, all the way out. 

Then wake, to find that I was only dreaming...

Still in maze's beds...

And music boxes haunting me. 

Underneathe, I hear laughing as I run, 

While the music boxes turn. 

They make it seem as if time is taunting me. 

Things paralyze me. 

Immobilize. And I find myself curled up often; not able to get out. 

Everything that is real in me, 

Is false in this world.

As if we have become inherent enemies, 

And are made enemies this out of family, friends. 

Both worlds are shot; the illusion and the ground above; 

Nuclear poison reaks havoc. 

Within, and without. 

When I return above, 

What will be left? 

Rubble, and robots; 

Dazed hopes lost. 

Love scattered all over in blood, 

And wept in tears by those who lost, and have lost for too long? 

The rabbit whole twists me, 

But it is just a product from above. 

Anything but a dream after all. 

I am the experimented on. 

The next generation. 

We will come out, no better...

At least that is the expected in our loss of hope; yet fueled may my insanities drive me back into the depths of life. 

And may purpose re-ignite a forbidden and lost life, within me; 

And all that it will ever remain alive for. 

There is Love in war; but only present within the each of us. 

We are the sacred. 

This is why we are repressed. 

And thrown down rabbit holes. 

And burned alive. 

You can not fight fire, 

With fire. 

We are burned alive. 

And immortal forever. 

Burned alive; 

You can not fight fire, 

With fire.