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Insanity

it’s a quaking darkness
hidden deep
lilting bruises that hide beneath the surface
thin white scars
of crisscrossing memories

deep as a river he comes to me
brushing past the pain
he slides into me like a song
and I feel him plant his seeds

fear is the demon
simmering below
twisting the guts
until nothing but pain
exists

it’s an old tune
playing seductively in my ear
the steady rhythm holds close
the song repeating over and over

sometimes it comes in shallow breaths
lungs squeezing out the air
inside the music swells
in gasps and groans of movement
a symphony of agony

is this madness that has come to me
for he cannot be real
the ground he sews is infertile
desolate

memories are the death
they defeat the light
in darkness they multiply
growing larger
until the morning is met with screams

my mind has gone
he has become more
more than he could comprehend
I yearn for that garden he must grow

past and future are irrelevant
for the mind creates its own universe
pain is its aphrodisiac
a person could suffocate on this proof of life

when the spring comes
with the promises he sang
will I feel the pain again
or will I dance in dreams

is it metaphysical or metaphorical
these hounded sensations
how they drive deep
insanity was always a good place to dance

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