I'm half awake, full asleep
Carrying no child in my womb
But a few friends in my head
And one hundred stories
And songs and alibis
On my tongue
Dancing quietly
Like the firing of neurons
In the infernal labyrinth
Of my brain
The weight of time
On my back
Is constantly
Crushing me against
The earth
So
No need to mention it
Again
On my way back home I am,
a constantly changing place, amorphous like aqua,
An Elysium
A utopia
A nightmare
A hope
A promise
Half kept
Half not sure
What has been done
Half unkempt
And fully chaotic
In part a prose
And the rest poetic
A plate of food for
My famished soul
Yet which eats me alive as well
A bittersweet feeling
A passive aggressive lover
Completely familiar
Yet strangely unpredictable
It's a time too
A time
Both good and bad
On my way back to that time lying ahead of me
As usual,
A dimension
That I could never fully sketch
With predictable details
Fuck determinism!!!
A new year as they say
A new beginning
A beginning
To yet another end
Whatever may it be
Whatever might it have been
I miss ya
- The Routine Death of December by ©vippik