whence

i feel as though i've been crafted at
the malignant hands of an apprentice god...
an insane child of a god.
what darkness awaits me as the sun expires
and the storm quickens its pace?

murderous thoughts have returned
and compartmentalized speech is uttered
it is a veneered walk, empty and spacious
i have no dreams, no hopes, only screams as
a bruised sky threatens to tear me away

i feed off the lives of others
wondering if i'll ever be happy again
because surely i remember truly smiling, laughing
once before... running through fields of poppies
and daffodil and rose, lavender filling my nose,
warm sands between my toes

now though there is only anger and melancholia
no moments sublime... only a torturous belief that
it will all improve, a restraining fear lashing my
hands from pulling a trigger and blowing myself
back to the dust whence i came

i don't even want to cry, i can't remember
what i've lost... only a vague memory of blood and smoke


d.c. massey (Albuquerque, NM, 1972)