The Funeral and The Birth

I don't know which came first. Was it the funeral or the birth inside my heart that touched the finish line first. Was it a tie? Inside the four chambers that pump life to my sense, I have clarity on the notion that came to be my sweet present torment.

The funeral was a struggle of flesh and mental fiber being stretched to their limits with mourning, grief, and the image that i wanted us to be. Realizing those were lies, none existent illusions in blankets of thick fog that i longed for and never received, I felt it begin to lower into the cold earth. A life that was nothing more than a hidden two faced secret stashed away from my sight for years. My grieving demised when the realization of betrayal rocked the deception i was choreographed into. Clear and bright red, like thick blood, it screamed in violent decibels for a moment and then was no longer. It evaporated into the universe, into hell, into a black hole where it has detached from my core. It's been replaced instantly. An exchange; the funeral for the birth. The evil that tortured me for so long with vindictive lies was over taken with one touch from you. Like the cry of a new born baby passing through the birth canal, bloodied and brilliantly there in all glory and truth.


The birth was so natural. The new screams and cries so vivid in my heart. It took all he had poisoned me with and awakened my four chambers with a new blood, a fountain of light that I have not know. I never believed in heaven until I listened to your words, your soothing yet raspy voice, and your breath softly falling down my neck. You filled me with you. Swim through my veins as my heart pumps your sails, pushes you though my every desire and need that you can conquer. You are a blood donor, I cannot separate yours from my own. You are forever in me and I cannot let it go. I don't want to... I need it to live. I need you like truth.You are the truth in this sick and twist reality that was created for us. The stage set with disgusting and vile swamps of harsh reality, and we the players. Romeo and Juliet had it easier, they got to die for one another, unknowingly. Here we stand, all knowing of our past, our present, our inability to stay away from one another, and yet to fight the oddity of the exchange. It's shocking that the instant one lover died in my heart, that you should be born into that cavity that very same moment. Is this yet another lie? A dream within a dream? A play within a play? Indeed it is too good to be true? Surreal and sick at the same time. Can there be such harsh truth that one refuses to believe it? Something so completely explosive that takes over mind, body and soul? Or is this only what movie scripts are made of? Perhaps, but only a fool would not explore the vast oceans of passion, complete love, insane intoxication, due to the whispers from fields of pessimists that surround.

Do not leave me here alone too long, the cold is chilling. Why fight it? Why stay away? Why only visit in our dreams when it is there tangible and ready to ride? "They" say when you die and see the white light you experience fear and with each closer step you begin to realize that this is something beautiful, honest, and bigger than us. Let's die in this birth and follow the majestic rays of light that fall upon us. Let's be born again.

Wake up. wake up. I lay here isolated from you by a pane of glass.