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I Ache Inside
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I Walk Naked Into a Cloud
I ache inside.
Volumes of thoughts racing like zebras in a zoo.
Trapped in their cages.
Like me, trapped in my walls.
Who built them?
Who erected these boundaries around me?
Who opened the window so I could look out?
Who locked the door so I had to stay inside?
Shifting from one storm to another,
grabbing at one voice that
I could barely hear.
I mangled so many plants in my life.
Dried them up by their roots
to ensure they would never grow again.
Carrying on, crawling sometimes,
other times riding a bike.
Who places these thoughts in my head?
Once but a short time ago I felt
like
a man of some importance.
I kept on keeping on.
Now I wonder what I was keeping?
What strange piece of jewellery was I holding onto?
I ache inside.
From young boy to young man to
middle aged resentments.
Knowing that every locked door
had been locked by me.
We are the creators of our own
prison cells.
We are the generators of our
own lack of power.
What is that tingle
that travels so quickly
down my spine?
I'll never really know, I realize,
why the vanilla fudge does not
melt in the heart.
Why the butterscotch toffee still
crumbles like despair
in my ashtray.
You know, sometimes I think
I hear a voice.
It is deep in my unconsciousness.
I more sense it than hear it.
And I forget that we are all just
a thread away from madness.
A touch away from losing control.
Here it is, the answer.
The frolicking truth
that promises much
but delivers little.
I ache inside.
And it is me
dragging the knife.
