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The Eclectic Pen - in the barn

By: ericjasongastelum   + 52 more  
Date Submitted: 8/21/2012
Words: 393

  talent's there lying, waiting for me to stroke her.
but laziness is next door, tempting me with her perfect teeth.
my talent lies there, and i know i should lie beside and wrap her with
one arm but there is no fascination, no guessing, no wondering in it.
laziness teaches me that each time i razor my skin there is another
world that opens up and breathes life upon my exposed blood. a world
that accepts my offering of neatly opened skin.
laziness is my master, and all i can drink is her stare. she waits so
daringly in the shadows of all my productivity, even on the sunniest
days i see her grin from the back of the barn. she reminds me of the
pain from the razor cuts and captures me with my own knowing. i ask
myself questions, and all the day long ending back where first i
begun. i end in the beginning of how everything can relate to me.
my questions are my own answers. white sparks like lightening from my
eyes when the ideas enter my head.
each idea is sent forth in a battle he will never win. ejected.
repelled. slaughtered.
laziness, pain.
feeding the poor with sticks while i eat rotting meat and its bloody secretion.
productivity, gain.
feeling the down pour of sweat as i see the end, the finish, and completion.
talent's lying there, waiting to sleep so she can go to work early in
the morning.
but i work graveyard and it interferes with our relationship.
she lies there, and i know i should lie beside and wrap her with one
arm but there is no fascination, no guessing, no wondering in it. my
dreams await me, and there is nothing but death in my dreams. i awake
to the feeling of spiders descending my ceiling and hovering above me
only to scatter while i lay there adjusting my eyes. swallowed by the fear
that i am losing my actual mind in this actual life.
ejaculating enough to let her know i still desire her but the
conversations have become dry and lacking substance. i love her, but i
hate myself.
laziness, joy.
feeding the insanity and watching some veins in my arm and the bloody secretion.
productivity, heaven.
feeling the down pour of blood as i see the beginning, the god, and completion.
affronted by solitude
prostituted by fear
confused by existence
grip the razor
slide it silently over the beautiful canvas
call the ambulance
lay in a cold room for two days
talk to the doctor
tell them it was a mistake
smile as she cries

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by ericjasongastelum

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