In Sanity

He thought he had it all in order.
Separated and complete, each
person, place and thing in its
compartment. Closed and locked
and sealed away, unless he chose
the time and place to open it again.
When suddenly the many doors blew
open, melting into liquid fire. Chaos
rose within him then, as violence
erupted. And then the truth that he'd
kept hidden, flowed like wildfire
through his veins.

Intimate - these self-destructive
tendencies arising. Intricate, their
warp and web and weave. He
could not even blame it on insanity;
for death was all that he had left
that could make any sense. For
all his want and great desire, downcast
for so long, had festered; vilely, it reared
its ugly head in opposition to the well-
planned life of ought to be's he led.
The right and best became the very
worst of all that he conceived
as wrong.

And songs kept playing,
endlessly repeating in his head;
all the songs of could have been
that he had tried so hard to leave
behind. No, he must not cry again -
not here, for her - not now.

Hauntingly, the memories
began to take on shape and
form again. Beating, beating -
heart repeating yet again its
sad refrain for loss of all the
greatest love that he ever
hoped to gain.

Eyes opening to other vistas;
looking then, he could not see
the wisdom in the sanity of this,
the life he chose to live alone.
Was it just the year before
when he was making plans
to be with her forever?

He thought he had it all in order.
When suddenly the doors blew open,
melting into liquid fire. Chaos rose
within him then, as violence erupted.
And the truth that he'd kept so well
hidden, flowed into the living
moments of his life in time...

? Michaelette ?

11/29/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...