Give Me Just a Minute

This is more poetry/prose in my stream of thought... but I think it could be more.

It's the life, the beat, the whisper on the street ... the one last call of the thing that always calls. Where were you when I tried to explain what it meant, what all that horrendous action on my part was? There was a time in my life when all I wanted was just for you to know what I was doing all of this for. That part of me was the young me, the lip service me, the one that did only what she shouldn't, when she shouldn't for the purpose of achieving the wrong means. Where were you when this all came down? Were you staring at the one last heaven that I had fallen from or were you blinded by the fire of where I was headed? I am proud of my self destruction, I am proud of my blood letting vampirous need that sends me to all the worst places! I WILL NOT REPENT FOR ANY OF IT. And yet... and yet... the one thing that lasts... the one thing that I want in this last moment is a sign from you that even through all this you do not hold it against me.


No sympathy for the devil but even Voltaire longed for his final home.


I only need a minute.

Author's Note

Comments and crits welcome.