“Moon Fish”
(photo by Andreas Economakis ©2012)
when you find yourself avoiding the letter b in your address book when your heart feels a foot deep in heavy liquid you catch yourself alone on the couch unable to move on though its been 2 years cracked pieces on the floor pissed off at yourself needing a sorry, what a sorry ass you are drowning your thoughts in booze and work and books and mindless little things that no matter what don’t let you escape you’re forever in a loop you reach out and touch the image and it repeats itself ad nauseum ending with the ugly part until you find yourself on your couch looking for an answer to a question that was never asked an answer that was never given a hand that was never held lips that moved away eyes that turned to ice a song you miss hearing and you ask yourself why must I be like that why can’t I be like the rest why must I be like the rest and you sit and wonder what would it have been like and you find yourself unable to escape from yourself for one minute a prisoner of the past in a future already written wanting so bad to say I love you. -Andreas Economakis This piece is part of a collection of words on blindness entitled: The Blindness of Life. The author is not a poet. Copyright © 2012, Andreas Economakis. All rights reserved. For more stories by Andreas Economakis click on the author’s name below.
