The Thief

293

Poem. During Hutch’s deepest drug laden thoughts.

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There is a thief…

Who races through my blood.
Takes possession of my breath.
Robes me of my soul.
burrows through my guts…

… like a blind tunneling mole.

There is a thief that takes me down like the sun.
Won’t let my mind believe won’t let me trust.
Cruel twists of pain slam me to my back.
The thief turns my blue skies cloudy…

… full of rain, rust, and midnight black.

I have no choice in the matter.
The thief comes to me like the Mad Hatter.
Arises then just as quickly disappears.
Waves of anger splash through my mind….

…but I can not wash away my tears.

I can not deny the thief what he asks of me.
Any more than I can deny my very heartbeat.
The thief tells me to allow him entry. I am hidden in a dark cave…
I fight to keep going, doing, thinking, listening, wanting…

…afraid, and alone with nothing more to save.

I don’t know him — this thief.
He’s not knowing me. But he’s wanting too.
I try to fight, but to no avail, he dams my efforts.
Caught in his dead pool…

… my mortal mind out of sorts.

I cannot fight him, this robber of souls.
He grabs on to my essence, and runs with free reign.
Weak and cold, I am a small dot, and not very sane.
I allow the thief his raging control over my life…

…I cannot fight the abuse of his sharp bladed knife.

When the thief is gone…

What will be left?

Awareness?

Nothingness?

Loveless?

Thoughtless?

Dreamless?

Memories?

Warm soothing seas?

Everything will be gone.

Dancing in silence.

Logic won’t blossom.

Am I already dead?

Or just playing possum?

What was before?

What is now?

What is after?

The thief my only master.

Evil and insincere.

That which is my greatest fear.

But at my very core.

I feel something more.

I can’t grasp it.

Can’t hold it.

I go back to my memory.

Open my eyes.

What is there?

There is something.

A soft voice cries.

You are that something.

You are there.

You think for me.

Feel for me, and for me you care.

Cradling.

Watching.

Willing my chests rising and falling.

You won’t let the thief steal me away.

I can see it for only one second.

Through the hurt, you have something to say.

Where there is you — there is me.

Where there was nothing.

Now I can see.

I hear my own painful sigh.

You won’t let me break down…

…won’t let me die.