a ratifying witness: I see a darkness

Its good to be in love.

Im happy for all

of you in that great state.

Im somewhat burdened

By the thought

of undying connection

spanning life. It must

Be the borderline in me

Speaking. Its

the fairly volatile

part of me

that resists the notion.

The part of me that

in anger throws profanities

at a slight slight,

my interpreter of events,

my own personal prophet.

Allusion requires awareness at a level

Im incapable of right now. It requires something less solemn than I am prepared to offer;

an imagination that isnt mired in the

peat moss of my own personal post-fall Eden; the place

I cant get to, dear friend. It requires something a little more living than

I am prepared to present. Instead, my present

state of mind is somewhat akin to the deer you'd see on the side

of the road, or the condemned with utter lifelessness in his eyes. Indeed

Im dead.

You could watch my chest heave. If you would, watch it rise and fall like

bread baking in the oven interrupted by the bothersome child. Ill tempered, my chest rises and falls with the sun of my consciousness. My living water tap spouts in bursts; justice for picking the desert as my home. It is my head on the curb, biting, waiting.

Its a damn shame, too. It came with such a pretty face. At least the eyes will be untouched, when the jackboot comes cracking

down, dimming the already dead world.

Final moments; my future, my past,

My history awakens within me a sense of something stronger

Than I am prepared to present. Dead, fuck, dead.