Virgo Moon

by Gary Sackett

Virgo Moon at Dawn

Virgo Moon at Dawn by Gary Sackett

awake — feeling of sadness as if a death has surrounding me, thanking life for the moment of conscious breath, yesterdays events leave me a twist, the moon of Virgo, beaming down around, leaving as it came.

I write as an outlet, interfered with on a monumental scale, the animal will constantly pull at me wanting, wanting, wanting, demanding my attention– let it go
chewing at my bones knowing, making noise, chewing and scratching through my skin, as he digs to ease his pain, annoying me on this day
where’s my peace, I do the same– seeing my face in the mirror.  Wake up, I slap myself, great days of feeling good then blam, smack, screwed, upside down in turmoil
where’s my new outlet as I drive….with her, to new heights. I feel caught, as a lion, tiger or bear, in a small cage, being taunted by children with no sense of right and wrong — can’t type only speak and the words of me, shutter and crumble the souls feel as the frustration of newness surrounds me
here, there, I feel from every direction, all, including myself….where to turn, where to go, what to say
 smelling the slow decay of my being,
heightened senses with no filter, brings pains to others, much less me.
I yell at my parents, dead arise to help, but where to, they come, save me, save I,
the wind hollers at me though the unfinished task of weatherproofing, turning my thoughts away from my exact problem,
coldness invaded my bones, as spring never wants to be, with me
whats my escape, how do I express this inside, so filtered
foggy medication — finding sanity in asylum — check in, check out,
where is, my time, my transformation, my newness, the same for others, always the same– same time, same place
be open I say, let’s expose ourselves, help others, ha, help me…what a  joke, I thought I was ready,
getting snipped from the underside, no commitment, just as I feel ready to do something, shit arises
in from all directions, my sacred little friend, express my inner most feeling — all of them,
but that leaves as every breath I take boils and festers as I spill this out, fuming not understood , nowhere to turn, I feel, but does that matter,
crawl in a hole a bury me, my despair is deep as I try this newness, this death of me,
choices to make, to be remembered as, a man who tried, as millions have before, to reach the promise land,
landing just short, and short of breath,
the wolf smells my essence and begs my nearness,
She, the Virgo Moon, leaves me,
always wanting more