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two sevens

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i'm feeling the need to write something
but i've written so much
that it all seems the same
sounds the same
and i feel that somehow
there are many pointing fingers
many mocking voices
calling my bluff
accusing my fickle heart
beating me down again
to a fibrous pulp
reducing me down
to a bubbling broth

and i have nothing to offer in rebuttal
no grand claims of how this is different
...this time
for in truth i am seeing
that it's always different
why would it ever be the same
if i'm growing, and changing
and realising who i am
and what i can be to someone else
why should it ever be the same

so far
i've kept the word machine off
deliberately quelled the overwhelming desire to shine
to display my wares
and i'm finding
this snail's pace
is just what i asked for
just what i prayed for

but i'm scared
i was fearless so many times before
but now i'm not
i've seen the dark road
and where it leads
and it's very strange for me to be this way
or feel this way
i'm tired of pain
both giving and receiving

it has been so long
since i recalled to myself
all those things from the past
and all the ways i used to flood a sea of liquid me
covering and suffocating everything in site
the songs and the words
and the things given and things done
they all seem so far away
so long ago

but like i said
i'm feeling the need to write something
but none of this is it
all these words
all these apologies
just to find the strength
and the courage
and the nerve
to say...

uoy ssim i

© 2003 (3 march) john r. chase

nothing ventured, nothing gained. the response? ...oot uoy ssim i