The Scarecrow Report: 5/12/17

By Dylan Stewart

There's a funny thing about goodbyes...but mostly it isn't funny at all. Sometimes the farewells can be bitter and angry..and leave you feeling wrong about the whole departure. Others are genuine and heartfelt. I've experienced my fair share of various levels of goodbye in the recent years and I have to say..I hate goodbyes. Here's a poem for you. 

I can't find you anywhere.. 

But I see you in every place...

In every face... 

I circle the blocks....

I scour the remains... 

Never finding you....

Never finding peace... 

continuously mistaken..

I can't find you anywhere.....

The one who suppressed my sickness...

My anxious mind and heart...

uprooted and extinguished my shadow...

My demons...my addictions...

You Brought the calming breeze to my trouble waters... 

With your very presence you'd 

Changed the animosity I had so longingly felt towards myself...

Changing my weather, changing my direction. 

My own skin was no longer a place of resentment and Disgust but a place of comfort and refuge.. 

A path I could have never taken on my own not because I was unable but because I was unwilling....

my self destruction...

my muse of misery... 

No longer did I Forget about today until tomorrow...

With your radiant mind...

Your vibrant soul...

Once Parallel to the heart... 

I can't find you anywhere...

I Only find

The underlines and the highlighted sentences...

The astrological charts..

The cassette recordings..

I find traces of Peppermint and lavender...

All riddled in moist decay... 

blanketed in mystery 

Head Cowardly buried underneath the covers...

You'd been Overthinking...

Over analyzing us to death...

I can't find you anywhere... 

Not even my dreams will have you...

It's raining dirty needles down on my mind 

As a melody laced in your memory escapes through my dashboard... 

I'd catch the next train...

Catch it right on my chin if it wouldn't cost my mother so much to bury my remains... 

The burden is mine and mine alone..

Forlorn and unending...   

mile by mile...

One by one...

each and every step you seem more and more like a vague figment of my imagination... 

A pathological tall tale I keep reciting.. Slowing forgetting the best sequences... Leaving me 

Intoxicated in my filth...

Bound to rust...

Inadequate...

Insufficient...

Extradited...

Exiled...

Alone...

Haunted...

Surrounded by blank white pages.. 

My words rendered useless...

My hands shaken...broken... 

My destructive nature refusing to subside.. 

Leaving me Without rest...

Without peace...

Voyaging to a point of no returning...

I black my eyes...

As I lay 

atop a storm cellar in a strangers 

Garden...

Fixated on the emptiness...

On the Trembling of my bones...

The aloneness like the very sun gracing my dwelling darkness...

Revealing hopelessness with each passing moment..each second lost forever into the nothingness...

I have became the very ghost I had so tragically claimed I would become... 

Fulfilling a self made prophecy... 

I Curse these hills... 

The thrift store romantics...

The Pawn Shop messiahs..

Curse the blood soaked hands of Time...

For they have always been my greatest 

Of Advisories...

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow...

Lost and undistinguishable in a grey Barron wasteland..

A place without dancing feet..

A place without comfort and refuge..

No peace..

No love..

No harmony..

Only walls..

And sawdust...

It's raining dirty needles...

I can't find you anywhere...

This has been the first installment of "the Scarecrow Report" with your friendly neighborhood Scarecrow, Dylan Stewart. Cheers