Comatose

Comatose - he never really slept.
Lost within a realm of ghostly images;
replete with all the feelings of the
childhood that he refused to leave
behind. And so the past had come
to be his every living moment.

If he focused in a certain way, it
almost seemed to come alive again.
And yet this power of his mind had
started waning - that strength that
used to feel so endlessly into an
altered time and place and space.

Another joint, a little more caffeine
(another breath of nicotine perhaps);
again these things would surely see
him through another day. Why was
it that the weekends seemed to loom
so close together now? Ah well, his
life in time had never made much
sense before - why should it now?

How was it that the days flowed into
endless, empty nights so quickly now?
He used to think he had a grasp on
concepts that evaded many men.
God forbid, that he might come now
to admit the doubts he felt. That was
a door he never wanted open - not at all.
After all, he'd left those days of endless
learning far behind. They were no more
than labeled as a segment they called
middle-aged by now. A quiver sent
a silent shiver up his spine, just then.

No, he could not start to think on
that again right now. And so he
focused yet again, on all the endless
details of the life that he had chosen.
If only he could rid himself of doubt.
Yet something in him seemed to be -
just broken. Life energy was leaking
out of him much faster than this life
he lived could re-supply.

All the basic training he'd received
within his youth must conquer all.
(Isn't that the way they all insisted
it must be?) Except for one. There
was one voice that spoke the truth
to him. He knew not where it came
from; nor where it might be bound.
And yet the tone, the sound of it
rang through him in a mist of an
undying mystery.

Would he ever dare to ask the
many questions that lie hidden
in his heart...? Oh no, he mustn't
start - for he knew the questioning
would be unending. Temptation,
as that voice began to speak again
to him. Insistently, it bade him to
begin. Whispering that all the
answers blew within the wind, if
only he could find a way to listen.

But that great fear began to rise
in him again. When was it that all
reasoning became a task for him?
Why him? Why now? When all
the dust had finally started settling
again. Burdening debris assailed
the core of his sensation, as that
feeling of an ecstasy (beyond his
comprehension) began to rise
within him yet again.

And he had vowed that he would
never let his sexuality arise into
ascendance - especially not in
memories of moments spent with
her. For it was just there, that all the
dazzling moments moved him to
relent. While the rules of the society
and law were bent on just this one
denial. His heart began to beat
too frantically within his chest.

He was so tired of the loneliness
that endlessly repeated within him.
Agonized, he longed to touch the
fantasy and dream just one more
time. (How was it that he'd chosen
way back then, to leave the feel of
ecstasy so far behind?) And so, it
came to pass - lingering there, yet
evermore beyond his grasp.

As, comatose - again he chose to
try to never feel this way again. Alas,
the powers that be, did not agree...

? Michaelette ?

12/8/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...