A longer poem about life, death, writing and what remains after I am gone |
-I Now Bleed- by Keaton Foster Hemorrhaging A cerebral wringing All that is inside Will come out All that is contained Will be spilt Milking, oozing Suckling emaciated goons standing Waiting, wanting, desiring Fools for words are easily fooled They believe what is being said Oh such desperate truth Is indeed a terrible illusion A slide of the hand A turn of the stone My imagination unhinged Bound by nothing Bound by none of them Alone, naked, and accused I stand before the page I fear nothing of what is required This mask that I’m wearing Has no holes for sight Yet I am And have always been seeing Such profound clarity Certainly comes at a price Showing me everything In this finite something Makes all the difference I am of course unafraid Concerned about everything less I will not fight any form of death How could I ever When I am done When I am truly exposed I will stand at the altar of my prescribed God Once I am laid down Into the depths of the ground I will climb high above the ashes High above all of my afflictions So here I am I now bleed Self-inflicted Such a dereliction of living I held the blade Without concern Regardless of shame Suicide and escape Are not the same How could they ever be God above will understand I will be let into his prison I will be treated like a returning convict Such punishment will be in direct contradiction With ease I will be able to take it Life, the one to be left behind Is and has been impossible I now bleed Every ounce of me is flowing Every part of me remains As the soul of my whole escapes Out into the exponential blue Of Heaven’s undying ruse… I Now Bleed Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |