Cicatrice
I imagine so much beauty love, a life of happiness, a life where reality, where the memories I am so determined to suppress, to escape, to liberate myself from, do not exist. I dream of so much beauty, love, a life of stability. a life where loss ceases to be inevitable, true, a life where it is extinct. I wish of so much beauty, love, a life of freedom, a life where the shackles of fear no longer riddle my body, inspire & empower the blood that runs through my veins, A life, that is in my control. I see so much beauty, love, infinite passion & limitless meaning in this miraculous world, in everyone, everything. But why, do I suffer, face, and fight so much pain? Constant agony, constant chaos, a constant war. I run, faster than I have ran from the police, faster than I ran from Tymia when we fought as children, faster than I run from the souls I fall for, but I am caught, captured, cuffed, as my mind, my history, my Cicatrice, is not something my speed can save me from. And that is why, when I die when the bullet pierces my brain, when my kidneys, liver, heart, and mind fail to let me take another breathe, and as my soul soars towards Heaven or Hell, I do not want to imagine my life flash before my eyes. I do not want to dream of my life flashing before my eyes. I do not want to see my life flash before my eyes. I do not wish to relive my life as it flashes before my eyes. I chase, I strive, I pray, to envision, to experience, to feel the life that I write about, the life that I ferociously pursue, the life that is a replica of the allure, the complexity, the hope I sense so powerfully, in the women I have kissed, in the humanity that derives in us all, in the nature that illustrates and illuminates the Earth, in the world. A life without these memories, these Scars. A life where the epitome of my desires, the peak of the mountains in which I have climbed, the cure to my disease of damage, the completing component of the equation for my rapture, A life where beauty, love, happiness, become my reality. Even if it is just for my last second, my concluding heartbeat, my final breathe. That is what I ask God for, a life that knows Peace.
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AuthorDaniel Buccafusca Archives
May 2021
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