letra de red (reticent emotional distress) - puppit

standing stark against the white of the canvas
a shade of crimson unfamiliar yet alarming to the senses
striking somehow that most primal of cords my brain is equipped with
and eliciting a fight or flight response from my nervous system
but rather than seek asylum from i confront then collide with it
grab a brush then dip it and drag it again along a path precognited
as if however unsettling that which i’m taking part in is
a herculean feat akin to the ascension of mount olympus
looking around, so long i’ve dwelt within this safer sp-ce
that my opacity was threatened by addition of a darker pigment
i can recall a time when my inner child would balk at the notion
of treading softly like the floor was lava, dispassionately so
closing off from all that i’d known when my youth was in its autumn
and i’d no trouble walking unafraid with my head aloft
sparing neither a second thought nor a look back at the leaves
but these days i’ve just been so preoccupied with the way they’ve fallen

something macabre in how the paint reflects the l-ster in the room beyond
while forcing me to reflect on the disparate change that i’ve undergone
many a season have passed by un0bserved while i turned inward
only to find one day that i’d become reserved and withdrawn
losing myself in every brushstroke, feeling as if
my spirit adrift, this healings a gift and so the chance to experience it
i find myself thanking god for the pain and the loss
and the rushing waters of acheron and the means by which he allowed me to cross
no longer doubtful i’m heard in moments of prayer
heaven knows i’ve paid more than a hay penny for my thoughts
i did my best to speak softly
but still i find it hard to tell of how paradise was lost
and just how oft i’d been obstinate, nails of either hand gnawed to the quick
k!lling myself with thoughts of what thow and thine may dost
never again, for god knows my heart
and so do i but self awareness has come at a cost

bless the dead and those who dead inside
somewhere between those two extremes is where i still reside
a pall hangs over my dishevelled mind, i’m digging deep to find where dreams have died
i seem to have been surviving off caffeine while sleep deprived
living on auto pilot blind though now i bathe in ultraviolet light
close them tightly shut, lay ten pence on my eyelids
if no man is an island lord, i prithee tell me why
i’m cast away on stranger tides, a storm on every side
my feathers sh-rn away where i’d been borne away on santa ana winds
i wander shoreward nightly, gazing toward the sky
and for what might have been, i’ll wish upon a star and contemplate
a god that shaped the clay of mortal men
then sent us on our way, free of will or are we subject to the whims of fate
with fragile hearts so pr-ne to bend and break
but friend, regardless what awaits us in the back
it’s worth it travelling there and back again

it’s worth it
and you’re worth it
you’re so worth it

dont stop moving
dont stop walking

what you see in the distance is what you want to see
life is beautiful

- puppit

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