The Window
pain is the return to a state of forgotten consciousness
that lost land in the mind that went away
but bubbles up like boiling acid amidst a sea of rusty metal
pain
the gain
of nothingness
only reminders of what was lost
a small child crying for its mother
a friend beyond reach
the window, the birds fly
free
staring out upon a world of small people walking crying, dying, moving
on
all free, except me
in a small box
wanting to be free
wanting to fly, cry, die, move on
the wall cracks open just a little
the door cracks upon a little more
the window swings open with a rush of cool wind
blows the tears the sweat, everything but the pain
as i crawl towards the wind the freedom the mountain on high
i see below me the people like a boy upon the ant hill
i fall, flapping my wings but realizing it just doesn't work that way
down
down
down
down
to nothing
back where i started before
only different this time
my outside a reflection of my inside
painful and beaten to a bloody beginning
Copyright © Colin Amato | Year Posted 2009
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