Noonday.

Like a shadow
the past is omnipresent
possessing all it is cast across
with the sun aglow at your back

standing in the midst
of the skipping record of circumstance
to process becomes desperation
gunning to push past cranial indigestion

bear the emotional playback
spreading out like spilled milk, saturating
enveloping everything

strive to feel yourself beyond the veil
something haunting there, lingering
cold, dark and ambiguous
seems the dead tell tales after all

try to listen within the static hiss
behind deafening roars of silence
beneath the white-knuckled fists of fate
that arise right out of walls
erected at the lips of a mote of fear,
a well-blazed halo of avoidance

just give them away
these circles that become smaller
making life overwhelming

twisting your heart till it breaks
bending your mind till it snaps
draining your life till it becomes
a desolate wasteland
for nothing less than death

bring on noonday now
bring on noonday now
bring on noonday now
let the shadow disappear.