Monday, October 10, 2011

The Black Parade

Sometimes I fall.
I am seven years old or nine, nineteen, now.
I tumble into space
a black place
without nets or any
strong arms
just an empty net
empty I think
a void saying
nothing reassuring
that's for sure
a black blanket
letting me spin and twist
in descent
I know how this sounds
I know what this must look like
and what you're thinking
about me right now
this second
part of the way through reading
and you know what
you are correct
you know the score
you have reliable answers
some with scale and some with horns or thorns
some stinger sharp
yet you do know
what's going on here
and so you stand aside
the black parade
and its single float
falling into an
that has no bottom
or hold
All you need do
is to make this ocassion
by giving up a little
Go ahead.
What could it hurt?

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