= released =

Pushed and persuaded I died on the way to the store. I’d heard the story before. Running around in lyrical circles searching for the mist just beyond taste. Dreaming of a place not far off and of recent memory. Air is thicker than water here. Drowning my lungs as I struggle to swim on mountains and hills. Flying kites that signal the passage of thought, hoping the wind will take the diamonds of my mind and make them something useful again. But the waves that surround me continue to wear at the shore of defense and whittle away at my witless intention. Swallowing up each and every messenger breath that escapes my quickly withering walls. The mountain has become an island signaling deserters to retreat. Careful what you wish for as waters and waves may dissolve the land around you whilst staring at the sun and moon. All that glitters may not be gold. Faith is not a safety net to hang your hat on. Not a cord around your waist as you wade out into wet embraces and passing chances. They wear away at the sand you built this house on. Quietly doing their work while you strike the flint and warm yourself by the fire inside. But as land retreats, the fuel for the fire slowly disappears and your left with nothing but dust and ash. Mocking you as you sift it in search of a live coal trying to remember why you stayed inside in the first place. Forgotten ideas hiding in chinks and corners of this poorly constructed hermitage. Forgetting what lays behind and in the deal, all that lays before. Too high. Too high the price. Does memory really weigh so much that the line that attaches you to it can’t be severed. Try. It’s really not too thick.