Heavy Eyes

perfectly calibrated thoughts
carved into rather in depth plots
strewn out into specially designed spots
purely to just get my attention.
it seems every spark of energy blasting between neurons press further on into the shaded world of the abstract and aesthetic,
the extraordinary to the pathetic,
begging the preacher man for just another reason to believe,
a heart desperate to receive just a shred of something more.
a man,
a broken man,
unable to dream,
to gleam,
a light gone dim,
as the grim smile of the night
broods over the land between one ear and the other.
as a child,
I thought as a child.
but before I became a man that slipped through my hand and I never got to sail this boat I built from the timbers of this rugged raw imagination,
the ethereal beyond intoxication...and sometimes,
a stiff drink sounds about nice right now,
letting go of the feeling of having no idea,
no control,
no hope of ever getting off this island.
once I believed I crash landed here in another time,
lost and forgotten,
but now I'm sure I was born here.
oh how my whole being just aches,
thirsting for the opportune,
hushing to stay in tune,
then maybe I'll finally catch the glimmer of you in the distance,
your soft whisper upon the wind,
an old friend emerging from the old and misplaced out of place habitats of who I use to be.
but what do I know,
what does anyone know?
all I know is I just want to go home.