Monday, January 9, 2017

A poem by Gary G Pelow, In The Dark.

I am in an ink well of utter blackness, the light does not reach me hear, I see no one in this dark.
The Sun is down early this time of year, it is dark and cold hear, I am nauseated and very tired.
I have no energy, I am listless. My stomach is churning with acid and nausea, I suffer alone.
I am in my bed most of the day and night, I feel exhausted for no reason, fuck everything, I am tired.
The schedule is not being kept, I am letting things fall to the wayside, nothing seems worth doing.
My head is spinning like vertigo, I feel unbalanced, ready to fall down the stairs, tripping and falling in the dark, the ink well.
I have no companions to share neither joy or suffering, I am in a dark, empty corner, no one notices.
I am distended in my gut, I feel bloated and heavy, something in my gut is pushing out to escape.
The pain of my gut comes and goes, it goes up and down with no predictability, I feel like a monster is in me, tearing me apart.
In the dark I am suffering, I feel no hope, all this blackness seems to be never to end, like I was in a massive celestial black whole.
Can you imagine living in a dark, dead  star where time and space disappear? I am in that dead, ancient star.
I am fifty one years old but I feel like I never left my teen years, in the dead star time is frozen, the past is always the present, the present is the future, time goes neither forward nor behind, I am frozen in a time of past teen anguish and horror, a time of violence never ending.
I remember so vividly the violence done against me in those high school years.
I remember being pounded by fists, over and over, I am laying in the grass being pounded over and over again.
Jesus fucking Christ why am I frozen here in the past as present in this black whole, this dead star without time.
I am shaking in fear, loneliness, anger, depression and nausea, I am sick to the very core of my gut.

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