Free Write 8/13/22

R.I.P. to the great one
The man in a van down by the river
Soaked in anxiety, no security
Bleeding out a combination of needs and resentments

To be who I need to be
Unwanted in what they see
Another sniff and I can’t see the warning
Though the mountain peaks will meet before morning

Falling through the grips of sobriety
Tears coating the cake of life
Something tastes off
There’s too much salt in this iron

I can’t quite grip the boulders
Each stone breaking into pebbles
Scattered about the mind like memories bathed in fog

Is it better to die a victim to your own internal machinations
or to drift off into a bitter darkness as the cold river joins your plasma?

When the stage lights turn off and the crowd disperses,
will there be any walls left to reverberate your dreams?

Or does it simply fade off into the black,
collecting itself amongst the trillions of dying stars?

Hundreds of hours lost in the void of space
Gathered amidst millions of neurons firing through the dark

To float isn’t too bad

To drown is expected

To climb your way back to the only pocket of air left in space
Now, that’s inspirational

Dance and swing before you join our memories in the stars