STONED

I am still...alive..wait listen to me. Just stop this ...its cracking my nerves...my pain is killing me. I beg you just stop this now!

Muted...my shouts are muted. Forever! Today I stand alone amongst many. Perhaps many whose identity is as jagged as is mine. I stand at the center,the last to be fitted into the gird of cement. Concrete, geometric....throttled just observing life around.I, once a sculptors dream. I once the inspiration of i reptile...dreaming of me as his home. Now, pulled out. Cut, sliced fitted into this geometric, manipulated creation that guards life from life, one human against another.

Any life that tries to grow on me is cut off. Once a creeper friend, i dearly cherished was replaced by sharp pieces of glass and rusted wire with brutal ends. I cannot be ordinary, but I cannot fight this glue that holds me strong. One day will it melt? will it one day wither? Or find another way to go..like the roots lived along me earlier. We made a kind pact....to grow and find ways of comfort for both.

With these one against another creatures its different. They kiss and hug in my shadow.....then one stabs another once on my other side. There are pacts, yes...for some time of need. Do they last? I don't know....I can't reach beyond. I told you this wretched Grey glue holds me fast. Others like me have given up. Drowned their existence in this huge thing standing tall....to keep one against another...I told you.

This old lady who sits in my shade is different from others. She is not yet cut away from me. I believe they do not go against her, she seems to belong to the same race. They keep her out always, let her be with me. She is okay on the outer side..they don't entertain her inside. She talks to me, fearless and loud. Her rags ruffle against me but the barbs make no difference to her. Whether light or dark, sun or shadow, creepers or barbs she does not leave my companionship. She smiles so often, loudly. The creases of her eyes are so kind. She blabbers as loudly at every human...they pay no heed. Sometimes they shoo her away but she never minds the other day. But I don't know why....they label her with these three cruel letters 'MAD'.
Stoned...I'm stoned. Set me free and i will tell you.....more of my story. Set me free, if you do I promise....i will prove existence is not merely there. Existence is the victory against crisis.