Poetry, Prose, Writing

Some Obsession.

they owe to some obsession they deny most every moment,
to some expansive chasm they are unable to cross
they sit back from some place of stuffing the void with those
medications that surround me on my desk
some kind of decadence wrapped in yellow papers, placed in brown paper bags,
laced with the aroma of fries that never make it home
candy wrappers
they don’t know what they are stuffing down.
I know it.
and while I see the oblivion
it is from the outside
and while I eat
I want to starve myself thin
to show that I can afford to wait
for you,
that it is preferable.
and I think
I am not far from that.
I want to smoke and drink and all the other things that
prove that I am still immortal
though this body never was.
I think of how long that illusion lasted
four decades was a pretty good run
before having to admit
Or succumb
to the moon.
before I saw the scars
the evidence of wounds
and all the other things that told me
what I already knew.
I still want to put that long coat on
light a cigarette and forget that I quit
twenty years ago,
that I am old enough
to have done anything
twenty years ago.
I want to do it now.
I want to put that long coat on,
those black spiked pumps
the kind I used to wear
re-conjugateย  my cool.
take you in, take you down,
clean my paws of you,
take your heart away with me,
what is left of you where you lay. and they
will say
what happened to his heart?
and I am smiling.
I keep it with his brain.
a bite ofย  my love