A Study In Scarlet and Black #32
I know you;
You are the reoccurring dream I have had
since childhood.
The one that leaves me exhausted all day the next day,
because I dream I have been hiding all the bodies
of random people I have murdered.
Then I awake in white knuckle panic and realize...
I haven't killed anyone.
I know you;
The night terrors
that leave vague impressions of dread and horror stuck in my matted hair with the cold sweat I wake up drenched in.
I know you:
You are the sound of car tires screeching
without the satisfying sound of metal and glass
colliding
like lovers
driven to absolute violence
by their own lust.
I know you;
You are that strange black cloud in the distance,
the one that smells like tornado weather....
but you never arrive.
I know you;
You creep between the cracks of necessary self delusion.
'If I write about it, it puts a lens between me and life'
Writing is a way of living in second person narrative...
but you find the cracks and seep through
like a broken sewage main.
You are the sudden,
almost uncontrollable urge I sometimes get
to swerve,
while going VERY fast,
in to on coming traffic
at 3: 45 AM.
I know you;
Unnameable, unknowable,
but as familiar to me as my own scarred and ravaged body,
and my psyche that has teams of shrinks working on it...
in shifts,
around the clock.
Make no mistake;
I KNOW you.
--30---
poem by Brevet Wilson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
