Words

Words are weightless when

Devoid of substance

Yet can crush

With entomological denotation

Conflicting with connotation

Empty without act

The actor’s script

Mundane; a work of fiction

Creates the narrative by which we live and perish

Out of sync with our mortal carriage

The body; a separation of church, spirit and state

Decapitated thoughts that plunder hope while aspiring

To American Dreams

The thought, the spirit and corporeal form

A sinewy mix of chemicals and flesh

Heavy with fluid

Unlike the weightless words;

Weighed down ; chained by inertia, apathy and gravitational forces-

Self-talk platitudes and

Make merry memes and technicolor pills

Knee-scraped off the wagon and scrambling

Back on, ragged, raw, real… if anything can actually be

All is manifest

Not taking the time to deal with the deluge of dust

Made muddy when our sacks release

Etching rivulets down dirt streaked cheeks; that emotional river, salient, sting

Wipe away, wipe away; smearing their channels in hopes of not repeating

But is it the mask I remove; exposed the callow of character; an naked actor,

Is there such a thing as self and an actual I?

Or is it self-immolation and erasing of memory?

Not that we ever really knew to know

These things, highs, lows, ebb and flow

Crushed by weightless words as they wind a noose

Choking the lines, blood flow stops

Brain fades brown

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down