Simon Friel

Epiphany

 

when it broke for the first time you walked away without any intention to ever return.
found alien streets and hid under deformedly shaped shadows from the fearful looks that you saw; which were nothing if not your own.
polished words seared into your eyes and fell down, onto unnatural earth deprived of all fecundity, in infantile pools of dejection.
thoughts ran in perpendicular lines to unfinished dreams of realities that didn’t exist, while based on fact you recounted out-loud, in words drowned in solemnity, the days that you had lived and of the man that you are.

coming up for air of hallucinatory light, in the mist of your most beautiful moments, you heaved back in revulsion watching in slow motion at scars being scourged out beneath the eyes. shameful vanity induced fear of reflections, on stolen side-glances that danced between 2 points set in stone to reveal un-navigated paths that led to abused childhood fantasies of sex and death.
innocent hints at proximity shot down in arrogant flicks of curt tongue left locked outside permanently idle truths crying out to be told.


smiles no longer cross this face of unmortified flesh, soothed in dogmatic flagellation, its sweet sores indicative now only of years passed over where memories deal in decades in place of numerically singular figures, complicating your history against bricked up walls of lies you will never escape from, or pay for.
alone you fail to find your zero. the reality of communication is black and skipped over.
back outside the place must not have left you tread water in an empty sea whose waves never reach shore. step out onto ghost lit grey-brown october sky where rain floods the ground yet not a drop will ever alight onto your skin.