"sideways"

I don't understand. I feel like hanging upside down, letting the blood flow, letting the pressure seep to my mind. I want to let go now, Im losing my grip anyway whats the difference. I laid on the cold bench today and watched the people walk by, sideways. It was an interesting change for a minute, they seemed to be floating, bobbing up and down like the waves, but again I saw it all looked the same. I don't think Im depressed...tired..no...there's no room for that now.
Maybe indifferent. Like the butterfly I saw laying in the gutter amongst raw leaves and tumbling trash. I thought it was resting, its wings still fluttered slowly but that wasn't it. That was the wind. It was dead...no I don't think so. I noticed it walking on the curb. No it wasn't dead, I don't know why I would've looked down if it were. I'm sure it was waiting. Death prolly. A naive little kid must have caught it because it was so pretty. He must have rubbed its wings. It was so pretty, it must have known. I'm sure it lied there watching the cars roll past until they only flickered.
But Im not dying. Dying is not something I'll wait around for. It's too quiet. No, I can still hear myself, I know I'm waiting for something else. Let me hang upside down for now, alone. I promise I'll come back, bright as a butterfly.

"not now..."

No not a love, not now...not yet. Not while I hunger for something so much more impassioned, so brutal in its affection that I could do not but surrender to it. Tremble slightly heart...soft quivers keep quiet in this vulnerable state. Hold still for me...do your purpose now with stoic duty, keep me strong and let me stand alone. Against these walls of fortitude that keep me solemn and sorrowed I'll lean...with weary hands Ill grasp its cold stone and bring myself upright. Dont shine, not yet...my eyes befriend the dark that deceives you...give me a moment, let me trace my fingers on your warm welcoming skin and let me know your shape. But don't shine now, don't blind my eyes, dont leave me in this white bliss.

"Let the smoke in the room..."

Its true Ive left this untouched for too long but theres nothing left to move me. It's seems that I have lost my muse, whatever it may have been. I don't desire to write now, is it that important? Who reads this??? No one. Course it doesnt matter, it's for me and it always has been.

Does thou not desire me?
Does thou not desire thine lips... thy mouth, thy body that has been shaken in such weakness for thee?
Does thou not see thy enflamed eyes that yearn for yours, pools of cool dark thirstless water?