009

They often say to be careful what you wish for, so I wonder why I long for self devastation.

For the occurrence of some event so spontaneous and tragic to strike me when I am not looking. A death, an injury, an illness, a tragedy. As if a deer leading on a panther whilst feigning ignorance to its imminent threat. Although it is a faint, borderline subconscious sensation, I cannot shake the tendrils of twisted desire that lurk beneath me.

Something to give closure? To give perspective? To source the darkness that engulfs the light from my heart and eyes? A definitive image amidst such a blurry landscape. A rope to bind me to reality as I continue to drift the cosmos of uncertainty, forever unable to steer my own fate, whether blind to the road or ignorant to the wheel.

I can take more. I won’t yield, nor will I falter in my ways. Again and again I will push it down to become part of the infinite void. Such is the futility in attempting to heal the sick that reject the cure.