::::::WHEN I WAS SEVENTEEN::::::

When I was seventeen-
I took a flight from life,
and the journey began atop
a shiny stainless steel gurney.

Racked in pain and delirium.
Accosted by stern faced doctors
and plain clothed detectives.
They was all bunched up around me,
a claustrophic cluster.

Ask me not where to,,,
or,,, where from ,,,,,,,,,,
or,,,,,,,,,,,, or,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Answeres to these questions
require words not yet invented,
they don't exist.

Can’t assemble in language,
that which is experienced
in feints and parry's.

Adjectives can't describe that,
whose parts defy structure and form .

Find me the pen to capture inversions of time
which fluctuate between now and never.

Formless impressions refuse logic,
and float above the horizon.

No,,,,, a true description is impossible.

Never the less,
I can say that it all began
shortly after being dragged, senseless,
to the hospital by my father.

Blood pressure plummeting to nowhere fast.
Body temperature hyper-excited
from searing chills
and a gut wrenching pain.

My stomach lining had detached itself
from it´s moorings, in stilted jerks,
erupting from my throat,
gushing upwards in a voluminous spewing geyser
of bile, orange juice and inhuman screams.

Muscles strained to breaking.
Caustic nerves cringed, lashing back
in a painful dance with the devil.

“Where’d you get the drug’s?”
“Fuck you!!”
“Where’d you get the drug’s?”
“From your mother, Fuck you !!!!!!!!!”
“Where’d you get the drug’s?”
“FUCK YOU. LET ME SEE A DOCTOR!”

Again gut twisting nausea.
Again pain-laced screams.

Stern faced doctors stood by silently,
subserviently staid, glued to the recesses
in the plaster walls.

Plain clothes detectives filled my screen,
jacking questions at me through a Fresnel lens.

Everything looked warped
and whacked up and down all at once.
Light raped a tunnel that was my dilated
and defenceless pupils.

The walls throbbed and contracted
and collapsed in multi-point perspective.
The only constant being, pain.

A pain that was too much
for the living to explore.

The pain of a stomach twisting the emptiness
beyond it’s bounds.

A deep stabbing pain,
screeching jagged waves,
no end point in sight.

A momentary blip.
A monitor bleep.
Body temp soaring into overdrive.
Blood pressure hugging zero.
The flood-gates were opening.

PAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
PAIN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Went away.......................................

Heart line straight and true,
feathered into grey nothing.

Then I saw it all from high above.
I saw it all with crystal clarity.

The looming detectives
shrunk like cockroach's viewed
from the eye in the sky.

The stern faced doctors and virginal nurses,
all dressed in god's white grace,
scurried like frenzied fire ants below me.

I floated somewhere above it all.

I looked down upon myself below me.
I was freed from pain
and the horror of the moment.

I ceased to sear from within.

I was no longer assaulted by daggers
of crystalline poison.

I was freed from love and hate,
and everything in between.

I was granted reprieve from emotions
which drive us to our knees.

I was freed from the thought
of my lifeless body below me.

I have never known such freedom

I was truly at peace.

I was floating upwards near the ceiling,
looking down at a very personal drama
to which I no longer belonged.

I seemed to blend in the spaces
between the message.

I was the fabric of the universe.

I was extending beyond the ticking clock.

TICK-TOCK-TICK-TOCK
TICK-TOCK-TICK-TOCK

Suddenly the room buzzed with high adrenaline, BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Tension wrenched the air.

A concerted effort by all the players
was focused on what was once me.

My sweat stained shirt was ripped
from my burning, steaming flesh.
They were pounding me, breathing into me,
sticking me with needles
and lines of sensuous fluids.

They were calling me back.

Can't say that I refused the call.
Can't say if I tarried like a truant student.

I don’t know anything but the ocean of spew
which suddenly erupted from deep inside me,
flowing outwards from my puking mouth
onto the gurney, clogging the stairwells
and corridors.

I felt the warmth of companionship
as pain once again jolted me back
into myself.

After that,,,

I know that I was brought up to the ICU.

I know they put a man in the bed next to me
and that he was covered in red paint.
It billowed out of his throat,
fortelling his helpless departure.

I didn’t see the visions
in his expiring eye’s.

I drifted in and out for day’s without number.

I had been blessed with a flight
from which few have returned.