The Nomad's Heart
Faces. So many of them blurring by me with a dizzying speed. They can come back to me in my dreams. I see them in my memories, recall them vividly since they all mean something to me. Stranger or friend. Lover or long gone ex. Like a hidden piece to this puzzle that forms the whole. It covers the sting. So many stories and beautiful words that fall from their lips. Each one a person with hopes, wants, and dreams. Each word caressing my ears and teaching me something new. Everyone is different and it’s so wonderful.
So many strangers and buildings pass me by. Roads under my feet. Worn down and reaching with a story to tell me. Yet these words fall from my lips and become empty as time courses on. Is there something there to understand that is deeper than one knows? I hear what they say and I feel what they feel but I try to feel my own story. I meet and weave a connection through their recollections, I see pieces of myself in the story and in these places. They show me their woes and I know who they are, even if it’s in a small moment. I can see their whole life and I cherish their memory.
Some remain silent but continue to smile.
I walk again. Feet touching the ground with the unending question. Eyes ever forward. Try not to remember. It will get better. Tie your boots and keep on going. Try to make sense. Every piece falls together. Look for the answer. What is this human condition? The survivors elixir? Is it beneath the stars? Is it in these waves? Is it in this kiss? Is it in this embrace? Is it in this song? Is it in this house? Is it on their faces? Is it in this grave? Is it the softness of this bed? Is it on this tree? Is it in this sock? Is it beneath this waterfall? Is it in the rain? Is it the way this bug crawls? Is it him? Is it her? Is it this pleasure? Is it this pain? Is it the question? Is it this sensation that brings me higher? Is it in the pain they cause? Is it in the pain I cause? Is it in the way he begs? Is it in the way I give? Is it in the way I beg? Is it in the memory of today or tomorrow?
It is on my tongue. It seems always tied to my silence. It’s in my humor. It’s in the kindness. It’s in my gratitude. It’s in my hope. It’s in my laugh. It’s in my craziness. It’s in my tears. It’s not in my emotions. It’s knotting around. Creeping down my throat, encroaching and burying itself in my chest. Twisting through the lungs. Wrapping around the heart. The grip keeps it in place as it flows with my blood. It is the story I tell to none. I’m too busy with my feet on the ground.
I never let it catch up. The way is forward. On your feet. Yes. That’s better. Keep on going,
So many faces. I can find the answer if I look a little harder. One more step to get me closer. That’s all I need. Keep on going. No need to stop. A smile will fix it. Another day. The sun will come up. The moon will be there. Wake. Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Don’t ever stop. It’s knotting again. It is so tangled. So many knots and hidden twists. Maybe if I put my feet down again. Nothing can stop me. I just have to go. Keep on running. Stay ahead of the shadow. Go go. That’s all that matters. No need to think or try to feel. Just drink something. Stop drinking that. Just take something once. Don’t do that again, woah. Just eat this. Stop that eating. Try this on for size. I know, sex can fix it. Be the slave. Make them the slave. Yes you like to watch them wiggle. Give them the pain. Let them give you the pain. No need to think. Just go. Just go. Feel love. It’s all you need. It feels good and will erase. Watch it unfold. No time. The answer is here. No it’s over there. No over here. You found it but it’s gone. Maybe this time? Left. Right. Spiral. Up. Down. Around. In. Out. In. Out. Up. Down. Through. Push inside me. Push inside you. Bite, scratch, grip. Go away. More faces and hazes. Where is the answer?
Stop. Tie my shoes. Wait, I see something.
Oh, would you look at that.
It’s a fucking mirror.