Sin bound, Sin found.
diagnosed far and wide but not deep,
regret falls under pillow skies of broadcloth.
poetry an outlet? no nothing more than words,
words spoken like empty promises..
words spoken like free money for a free man..
words more dense than than lead on liquid mercury,
floating, drifting, sewn shut, re-opened,
melded together like a close entanglement of red wires...
which to cut.. snip snip boom, shock absorbed.
safety like the white of purgatory or the black of nothingness.
nothingness cant be black.. some light has to be in nothing,
if nothing was nothing then nothing wouldn't be understood
-as the nothing we all know and cherish today and morrow.
Tomorrow, bright as day, sun is light, sun is nothing,
sun is far, wide and deep.. even warm.
the sun will save us from all the city,
bound and found, beyond the nothing that is nothing.
the everything that is nothing.
the poetry,
the regret,
the money,
freedom..
all byproducts of our nearest and dearest star,
products of the Infinite cosmos,
where nothing is known. nothing...yet nothing,
holds the key to everything
Written in June of 2011.
1 of 6. written in the later years of senior year, interesting head-space at the time. These 6 are almost unrecognizable without too much thought.