It’s the gods who keep disappearing. If it’s me. I grasp at one and its gone. I watch the darkness seeping through the branches of the tree as the light rises. The transparent wind, the soft emptiness of nothing. Sheer black, the god with no wings. This tree. I sit on it’s branches looking back at myself inside. Praying. To a god, another god. Leaving this body, Venus is as bright as a halo perched on a black bird. There is contrast but nothing concrete. There is meaning but nothing visible. This vanishing light through my arms. Because I was here as the morning shook us free from our slumber. I cling to the roots of god, all I know. And here I sit, nothing. Heavy grays fight the sun. But he will rise from the dead and conquer us all. But I will not sleep until my new light returns. Dead leaves below me, vacuous clouds hang low. I grasp at shadows of gods in my thoughts. I penetrate prayers as the bird watches for the scurry of food. I live here and am not of this clamor of thieves. Taking everything. Broken branch. I, without wings shall someday fly to the top. No god. No empty vessel. No whisper of song. Only this, memory watching night fade to a new dream of birth.
You are merely a phantom. I know and yet I keep writing to you. For years you have come and gone. I spill myself like fresh blood on a page until you form a new body in my mind. I look for you in the sky every morning, I watch for you in the midnight tree just outside my barren window. I have nothing to say, you know this. They’re all gone, just a piece of that night. We spent waiting and listening for answers. These gods are a schism. There is always a new way to write the same pain I feel, I think it’s me. Inside. You ask where does it come from. Your pain body, why is it so large you ask. Because I am made of the places gods won’t go. Because they put me here to pull the words together with tears. Because I am a pastime, an experiment in suffering. Can a new light be formed from a dying flame. Up in the tree one bird asks another. Those birds, little black chattering feathered beasts sit on my sloping shoulders. I am inside this place. I am everywhere. Pointing and shrieking. Rising and falling. Breathing wind rib cage. Smoldering burried heart. The gods have all died, inside me and risen. I imagine as the devil fell. That night into the trees. I see what goes on in my sleep, the bodiless realm of flesh aching to be seen, for what it is. Felt for how death reaches, into us wth wings of sunlight spreading. Into a new world, an understanding of how this all sounds. My dark imagination defining me. My body growing old. The gods I once slept with have left me for a younger beauty. This world will take your feathers when you aren’t watching and drag you into a room where you aren’t a part of the picture anymore. Just a word ripped out of a page, just a chest moving up and down, pretending to listen, pretending to care. But I am not alone where I have been left. I hear the astral howl. I feel the tentacles of the moon as she cries to be seen. The shadow animals here are wild and hungry. I could say they themselves are the disappearing gods as night releases the morning from it’s womb, but I would be lying. They themselves are me feeding upon my dead and gone. Roaming my inner sanctum for food. Filling my veins with primal torment. Because nobody, not even them, found the moon last night.
Where I left her, little child all alone in this death that was so quiet, it’s as though he never came at all…
and that was me, all gone to the wind and creation. Taken by a storm that was not even real. Ignored by you. Undiscovered by god. God wasn’t anything but a blanket covering the dawn, with an artificial light in our head. Telling me I could be more than what lies beneath it all.
She is the empty alone I feel. There is no she, that’s all over. A long goodbye was my life until it passed like a cloud from the valley I sat in. A tree with these roots that I could not dig up. As sharp and as violent as hell. A bird, two birds up in my head lying and spreading rumors. And then there was you, a silver spectacular god. So deep I could not see, only feel the light touching itself as if anything were possible…even now.