The crack in the walls made me visible again
In disbelief of it all, he was there
The lights were on, the camera rolling
You held it right where I was
Falling into a rabbit trap with a red carpet flying by
Fetal in the night, I wept after the feast
He felt my ill,
Much later came the weeping
From the creep of my ills
Feels of falling
Maybe later, maybe later
Behind curtains lied my insides
Set them on fire
I lost the feelings
But never the meaning
This particular poem really stuck in my head today. It’s original title was “My Love, the God of Fire.” I had to change it after analyzing it earlier. It’s really weird to analyze your own work to decipher its meaning.
“Maybe Later” is about my execrable emotional walls. the darkness they emit, and the pain of trying to escape those walls. I reference a male in the piece, I used to think ‘he’ was my husband. But after truly reading, re-connecting with and understanding the fucked-up meaning behind it all…I also believe that ‘he’ could be the exterior ‘me.’ ‘He’ is the personality donned by my sculpted defense mechanism (turned defense android).
And then I read it again and again (again)… and it seems most likely that, “he” is my husband, and “You,” is my exterior.
He was there, in disbelief of my cracking walls. He was there for the past of my abuse leaking through my pores. And ‘You,’ is the external me, documenting from a distance, but keeping the lights on. Protection.
I could really go line by line with the rest with complete confidence in the meaning behind the art. Though, what’s the fun in that?
It’s all kind of too heavy for me, honestly.