The Taste

And then I tasted

The salt of the labor

Done in vain

Plans

They will never see the light of reality

And then I tasted

The salt of tears

Feeling all hope drain away

Knowing this dream can never be

Plans

*sigh*

They carry red knives in golden arms

And then the taste of salt

Led to bitter and gallfilled dreams

Where the longing once fire in bones

Now leaves only an aching feeling

So empty

So lonesome

Withering shutters of the soul

Watch these pathetic scribbled pangs

Or maybe call them

Life's last passionate convulsions

Revoltions

Fetally I lie

And let my eyes try to remember

How to form tears

But this is a new kind of longing

Heartsick for sure

But certain all the same of

One

The future that will never come

Like an echo of what was

Like a negative photograph

Like the aftertaste of diet soda

Like the aftertaste of arsenic

This is the feeling that greets me now

In quiet hours when others slumber

I shall drink and taste and see

And wish I hadn't

Would I do it again?

How could I just let it go?