Phase I.

Staring at the ceiling –

it’s a lot closer than I remember.

My eyes in the ashes

My heart in the water

But my lips, untouched.

The shadows and the Forms transcend

over my being

Contingency afloat.

This is my Hell.

Phase II.

I am detached,

gazing at the

conventional morality,

false values,

and half – hearted ideals and visions

that compose my environment.

Why –

When I have water and breath –

should I desire anything less than life?

I am alive –

So why should I reach

for the dreams of the dead?

We beg for dirt in our veins

and get upset when it begins to kill us.

I refuse to be satisfied with mere existence,

for my soul is beyond the stars.

Filching the dirt out –

And it’s funny,

almost,

how Heaven burns just like Hell.

Though maybe it’s brighter.