Man In An Overcoat (book 2-part 1)

My Father took his own life three minutes and twenty two seconds after my eighteen birthday was over, three minutes and twenty two seconds was all he could bear now that I was an adult.

His last words were’

‘I HAVE DELIVERED YOU, A MAN NOW TO THE WORLD’

‘MY CREATION OVER’.

I held his hand as he died, I did not feel his life force weaken and drain, just a sudden slackness of muscles and some drool from his mouth.

I licked the drool from his face, he was my Dad what else could I do?

His hand once so protective and loving and supportive and harsh now slack with no love, support or harshness.

You were my first love, you were my Father.

At the moment of his death I could fool myself no longer; youth no longer ran through my veins, I now a man not a boy.

My feet for standing firm now not playing.

I could fool myself no longer.

Days and nights of foolishness over now.

 I can fool myself no longer.

When I was six years old I experienced myself as a Godhead. A spring of creation and hope and fear.

 I fool myself no longer.

I fool myself no longer that graciousness is bestowed from opiates brown. Sweet puncture of skin the most addictive emotion.

Only the deep longing

and need

remain

as when a lover leaves.

I can now only weep for the things in life I never experienced as a child/young man, opportunities not taken at the time.

I weep their sensual loss as if they were real.

I can only mourn what never was. Recognise the thief who stole from you, recognise him for who and what he was, recognise him for he was you.

I fool myself no longer.

I pushed forward to be drugged and dragged back down.

FOOL YOURSELF NO LONGER FOOL!

 Imagined imaginings dragged me deep into desolate depression; desperation no longer beats in my heart just the loss of what never was.

Opiates bestow a graciousness now lost.