If This Is Death...

I've touched you for an eternity 

....only in the intangible dimension of my unrestrained denial

I refuse to comply with reality- I cant comply. 

Reality is cold, hard to swallow. But you,

You are so sweet, so soft.

An angel.

Skin of honey, wings of refined gold, the scent of heaven

Your wings...I need their beauty in this ugly world

But how their winds poison me with each bitter-sweet breath I choose to take in

A slow, painful death

Why so beautiful, Angel?

If this is death, I love dying more than living.

I approach the glass time and time again

The surrounding glass being the only thing, but the hard truth, keeping you from me

I press my face to its surface

I see you

Asleep...

Asleep on the whitest cloud of perfection.

Each flutter of your wings sends me toxic air through the holes in the glass,

but my face remains pressed for I refuse to comply with reality

And my fingers inch through the small holes, as far as they can towards you

I feel closer to you, for I refuse to comply with reality

But I'm not close at all.

And neither am I distant.

I'm somewhere in the painstaking middle, awaiting my death

But amidst beauty I will wait. I will wait, Angel.

You flinch...

Then sigh, as if your dreams are laced in gold just as your wings, then turn onto your side and face me

I smile, for I refuse to comply with reality and can't help but smile endearingly at the slightest miracle you give

Sometimes slight miracles feed unrestrained denial, but its sweeter than swallowing reality

And for this moment, sweet is all my heart can handle, for tomorrow, you will once again fly away

But for this tomorrow, I see not another

My tomorrows among nonexistent dimension have run dry.

I refuse to comply with reality- 

but it's human, inferior, powerless emotions are setting in.

My stomach churns blood, my heart pumps acids and blades, and my lungs collapse from your toxins...

My numb fingertips slip out of the holes and slide excruciatingly down the glass, leaving trails of blood, acid and faith

The glass becomes obscure, reason becomes obscure, purpose becomes obscure, happiness was bludgeoned in acid

Why am I here? I am lifeless.

My face becomes pale, my throat begins to choke. I cough up everything I ever believed in, everything I live for is vomited into atmospheric pressure and gone without second thought. I crawl onto a cloud of grey, not silver, grey, inflamed and hurting and, I curl into a ball.

Pitiful.

The thoughts: "This is sick. You're sick. You've lost. Now cry yourself to sleep, baby."

"I've lost....................."

I swallow.

I become lost in my own failure, lost in my own mind....

(a war-zone

             Ships crash unstoppably, missiles, bullets, crying children, broken ties,

                                                                                           my world is falling today and no militia will stop it) 

I am knowledgeable of victory but glass is in my way. I have failed. The world is falling. Reality has set.

I cry,

   I cry,

       I cry...

I weep.

I weep myself to sleep, in only the security of the mangled positioning of my body,

a helpless ball atop a cloud.

My tears fall as rain to Earth

and I fall too.

          Drip

        Drop

          Drip

        Drop

My tears feed the earth. A flower sprout grows. I fall far from my tears.

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

I like this verse...the visual of the write...the pace and tone of the language is vivid as a reader goes through the lines...and the way you change the mood in the end lines makes this quite a different read...you take us in within your words...

[Richard]

I love the idea of sleeping on a perfect white cloud ... and that a tear, with all it's power can bring up a flower ...great imagery happening here :)
I really liked this