SCB
09-30-2003, 02:23 AM
What is it to me?
You say you know how I feel. You say you understand what it is to be tempted. It isn’t a temptation to me. When she arches her neck as she smiles, I am impaled. The tiny sting of a puncture wound in my chest is all the warning I have before the slow flood of heat rushes through my veins, along every inch of my skin, into every recess of my brain…turning the empty void in which my soul rests into a raging inferno of sudden life. In a way, I can see the poison. It begins at the edge of my eyesight, like a hiker running out of oxygen, realizing that he is about to succumb to tunnel vision. With a blink, my vision collapses, and I see the world through a veil that allows only need. Every inch of my skin suddenly tingles into life. A touch that isn’t a touch races up and down my arms, permeates my chest, walks with every step I take. I am more alive than I have ever been since the last time I felt it-like awaking from a nap in the middle afternoon, suddenly refreshed and knowing that you have slept far too long. I long for more, cry for more. Every tingle, every sensation sings to me, an opera, a chorus of necessity. There can be no resistance because there is no reason to resist. There is no desire not to drown in a sea of red passion, desperately clawing my way ever deeper, gasping in the killing sea as if it were the air so far away, and dying to save myself from not being strong enough to give in. Every emotion the body can feel wells inside of me; hate, fear, longing, abandonment, trust, anxiety, safety, love, belonging, peace all blend into one final thought before I am finally engulfed in the depths from within. “God save me”, I mutter, in my head. A solemn prayer to that which drives me-save me from the cold of being without. A solemn prayer to that which saves me- drag me away from this churning, burning abyss.
And you say you know how I feel.
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as always, please let me know any comments/criticisms you may have.
You say you know how I feel. You say you understand what it is to be tempted. It isn’t a temptation to me. When she arches her neck as she smiles, I am impaled. The tiny sting of a puncture wound in my chest is all the warning I have before the slow flood of heat rushes through my veins, along every inch of my skin, into every recess of my brain…turning the empty void in which my soul rests into a raging inferno of sudden life. In a way, I can see the poison. It begins at the edge of my eyesight, like a hiker running out of oxygen, realizing that he is about to succumb to tunnel vision. With a blink, my vision collapses, and I see the world through a veil that allows only need. Every inch of my skin suddenly tingles into life. A touch that isn’t a touch races up and down my arms, permeates my chest, walks with every step I take. I am more alive than I have ever been since the last time I felt it-like awaking from a nap in the middle afternoon, suddenly refreshed and knowing that you have slept far too long. I long for more, cry for more. Every tingle, every sensation sings to me, an opera, a chorus of necessity. There can be no resistance because there is no reason to resist. There is no desire not to drown in a sea of red passion, desperately clawing my way ever deeper, gasping in the killing sea as if it were the air so far away, and dying to save myself from not being strong enough to give in. Every emotion the body can feel wells inside of me; hate, fear, longing, abandonment, trust, anxiety, safety, love, belonging, peace all blend into one final thought before I am finally engulfed in the depths from within. “God save me”, I mutter, in my head. A solemn prayer to that which drives me-save me from the cold of being without. A solemn prayer to that which saves me- drag me away from this churning, burning abyss.
And you say you know how I feel.
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as always, please let me know any comments/criticisms you may have.