Bleed

I want to bleed onto the page,

With every line, a prick,

To stretch my heart out into words,

But finding them's the trick.

I want to mean to mean a thing,

I hope to find some sense

Within the rambling of my thoughts,

Bit more than nothingness.

But in the dark is only dark,

And I'm but memory

Extended, stretched into a life

And fading, there, gently.

I felt what it was like to lose

The sense of self coherent

Grip me like claustrophobia

In the smallness of the moment.

I felt in that the meaningless,

And memory is meaning,

And all the fears I fear the most,

The curses of our breeding.

To be alive, but slowly die

As in pieces, I fall off,

Am lost within a mindlike cage

And fade until I stop.

So what if soul and everything

Is but patchwork of moments?

And what if as the threads are pulled

We die with what we forget?