Sunday, March 15, 2009

The Last Stop in Hell.

Where to start
in the park
where shivering
it all came
crashing down
a night under the stars
at the end of a rope
not screaming
or crying
or shaking a fist
just looking up
at the night
and asking it
why
and knowing you
won't get an answer
and that's the worst part
not knowing if the answer
will be on the other side
of this final curtain
but wait
here is where
the phone rings
"hello you
what you doin'?"
and you look at yourself
and start to cry
One Last Time
you cry when they say
"fuck crying
 let's get you flying"
and then
you start to laugh
at it
all of it
the money
the pain
the girls
the family
the drugs
the rape
the murder
the weakness
the soft centre
the I need a hug please
the Help Me Please, Somebody
you laugh at it all
the games
the shame
the fictional weight
of this fictional world
which is all it is
a fictional pain you've invented
as a lazy writer
who attracts craziness
in order to fuel creativity
when indeed
all it ever did was block
the real you
from shining through.

That's all it ever does.

So you leave it
you trust your future
you think of all the
love
lust
sadness
pain
mummy
Pops
this 
that and totally
the other
that's you've tortured yourself
with in Hell
how she
and he
and they
and you
and where
was God
gone
wasn't he
oh how
alone I must be
oh how 

well,
you know

you finally fuck it all off
three days after
you had given up
you finally fuck it all off
and sit on a cliff
by the water
surrounded by tombstones
you finally bury the past
and it's hard
you never thought it would be
anything but
oh yes, it's hard, gonna get harder
this next bit
but without the weight
you know
that you can make it
out
of

Hell.