Feigning Familiarity - Street Sects

I’ve pushed a chair below the fixture

I’ve tied a knot around the rod

Still, I’ve yet to find the courage

To take that step forward

Coiled around each moment

Growing in our organs

Nobody gets around it

Friendships never feel substantial

Lovers see me at my worst

No joy in social interaction

No pleasure left in sexual conquest

Just wasted life force

Torn flesh

An overrated high

Once the body exceeds its shelf life

There’s no temptation or desire

Seems like every connection that I make

Inevitably turns morose or banal

But chasing comfort through the gutters led me here

One fix away from a perfect place

Into the fold of heaven’s captives

Locked in a cell behind its gates

Stripping away the moral bondage

Laying the mind and heart to rest

Into the burn

Gathering light

Severing self from flesh and blood

Into the void

Into the end

Falling

Spinning

Suddenly I am moving through the moments of my crimes

Seeing myself through my victim’s eyes

Now I am the carrion

My own release

The blackest recess

My deepest need

I’m not suffering

I am blossoming

Into an absence

An open vacancy

I’m not afraid

I am finally at peace