Thursday, April 15, 2010

Songs of Sleep from Pan and his Lover

You came suddenly, like a fork splitting a one way road.
Shit. I can't tell which path I'm on. Can you see me? 
It was like walking through a mirror. The glass shatters. Cuts my finger. I'm alright. 
I live. My bleeding is my personal ritual and reminder of my being human. 
We've both admitted to our addiction and our longings. The mirror is personified. 
Yes, it has a name. I've been trying to figure it out.
Again, I can't sleep at night. I'm too excited about tomorrow. What is tomorrow?
Are you there tomorrow? Are you there, now? Are you me, still?
Fragmented into a million pieces of dancing atoms, The light reflects off the broken glass.
I can see now.
Have we been swallowed by the labyrinth? the illusion of our divided being? 
You seem to be fine, in a strange way. We've returned to our broken homes; those planets in complete misunderstanding. But is that not the easy way out? is that not the antithesis of our purpose? Let's stick to what we know, yea. Let's deal with anything other than ourselves, that way we can live stress free, worry-less lives. 
Stop. Don't look at her. Don't pay any attention to that moon inside of you that speaks to you in dreams and reminds you which way is up.

She's lying.
I can smell it. 
Don't read this.
It's a freshly-scented female.
She carries your soul.
It would be too devastating to let go of your merry-go-round world to step into that part of yourself that sings you to sleep and wishes you weren't such a stranger.