Chin

Weeks of feeling
have rendered me numb.
I avoid all thoughts,
though I recognize some.
They keep me awake
and they choke off my breath.
They make me feel weak,
like the coming of Death.

Memories stain paper
with sharp, crimson detail.
A face I wish I could forget,
but with each attempt, fail.
A visage forever engraved:
his hair, his eyes, his nose, his chin.
The lies his limbs spewed:
the arms of his affection.

No drug takes this edge off
and no meds stop the noise.
I can fake it all so well,
with such great poise.
What option is better:
to ache of feel nothing?
What kind of relief
would the darkness bring?


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^ Another "masterpiece" courtesy of my Causes Of War class. ^

Poetry has been boring me recently. The above poem took three class periods to finish, mainly because I just didn't want to write a poem. However, since I started it, I thought it only right to finish it. I'm also currently working on a new short story, which I'm kind of excited about and I'm happy with the progress so far. It's become my new in-class distraction. It won't be completed any time *too* soon, so I wouldn't expect it to be the next blog I post, but it's coming along.

I've been thinking a lot about the concept of time. I am a firm believer in the "time is a man-made contraint" theory. It's not really a theory. Time is man-made. It's relatively arbitrary. Someone decided to base hours around the sun's position in the sky and everyone went along with that. Not that it doesn't make sense. As Professor Schochet ranted last semester, it's hard to set up meetings when you cannot decipher when you should meet. You can't just say, "Meet me the next time the sun is there!" and point your finger into the air. However, is it possible that a measurement once used to simplify life now actually contrains us? I'd say yes. As children, we have fewer responsibilites and; thus, time is not a priority. You don't have to be at work or in class at a certain, predetermined time. As adults, we do have to worry about those time-related issues. Now, we say, "There just aren't enough hours in the day" because we've used the clock to time out every moment of our lives. Then again, when we're trapped someplace we really don't want to be (i.e. work, class, traffic, etc.) time seems to drag on.

Hmmm...this rant is only partially developed and that's okay. I will leave it at this because time once again calls me to a different place...my couch where I intend to watch "The Daily Show" and "The Colbert Show" reruns from last week. For this appointment, I am already five minutes late. Damn sun. ;)



"In time, I will fade away. In time, I won't hear what you say. In time...but time takes time, you know." Ben Folds Time