I'm collecting bones between sheets of meat
and memories,calling a lie "life" and spending
my youth on a dream more rusty now
than my childhood bicycle-
look at my hands!shaking like scared children,
white as lilies and painfully unaware of tomorrow's
plans...
I have worms in my throat,swarming and clutching
to my shabby sanity,all green and vile!
mother,I don't want to go!don't feed me
to that metal monster!keep me in your arms!
my stomach's tearing apart under the palms
of Sunday's inverted dusk-give me something
to forget myself,to forget the tears that just won't
form as fiery streams of relief and solace!
father,give me peace!tell me to be strong
and tall and to stop cutting my own hair!
ah,distance,you are as cruel as ever!
my pain's your child-and what a caring mother am I!
4 comentarii:
Your sanity is safe in its place. Insane people don't realize they are sick...
...or do they?To my mind,one can never really distinguish between sanity and madness- the line's too thin and we're too blind ( most of the time).
Well, I think you're quite ok, trust me :)
If you say so...I'll try to believe you.
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