Welcome Home

"Why?"

You’re inside again, the shades drawn tight,
lights low, staring at the different darks
and wondering if you moved the furniture
in here would anything really change
besides the feng shui and the unbarked skin
of your naked shins.

What? No! Fuck blue. You’re not a color.
You’re the anti-color, not black,
just blank, a clear nothing that
respires shadow because today
hurts in its light, its bright,
and its obsequious pastel softness.

You crack the shade for a peek,
and realize your mistake, eyes swelling shut
with the burning thought of being caught.
You’re okay with your selfish sequester
because no one cares to see you like this
and you don’t care if you see them, either.

You’re not sad. What is sad?
Happy then? Please! You dipped your brush
into nothing again, smearing its impasto
of those feelings of no feeling that
you haven’t not-felt in so long,
ambivalent of their dark ambivalence.

The caress of its serial killer fingers
glide upon your skin, seductive, safe,
soft, smooth in their smothering.
They trace the letters
on the misted windows inside
your drawn-tight eyelids…WELCOME HOME.

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7 thoughts on “Welcome Home

  1. Hmm, that’s deep, Joe. It did need me to read it again to get its full flavour.
    I love the line: “…smearing its impasto
    of those feelings of no feeling that
    you haven’t not-felt in so long,..”
    It is so redolent of those moments of numbness, which are very dark in a way, but so often represent a moment of tiredness tainted with a touch of disillusionment. And the title / last line just hits you with a ton of irony!

  2. The photo grabbed me immediately. And then, the words. Dripping. One of the loveliest, heartfelt, pieces I’ve read in a while. Guess it takes one to know one….”You’re okay with your selfish sequester
    because no one cares to see you like this
    and you don’t care if you see them, either.” Yes.

  3. So stark – numb – like John I love the line: “…smearing its impasto
    of those feelings of no feeling that
    you haven’t not-felt in so long,..” – it’s a dark place you have painted so well

  4. Black.
    I’ve heard of The Black Dog, but having chronic depression my Self, I don’t like that title. And the web site Beyond Blue doesn’t say it either.

    This here, this says it. Excellent. I caught you on a reblog.

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