mercredi, décembre 29, 2004


I am a plastic head
saran wrapped teeth.
I should have rolled it back on myself
when I was suffocating
and awakened in panic
from my sleep.

Did you hear my stifled cry?
I know you weren't there
beside me on that metal chair
because you never are.
It's not your fault, I know.
It wasn't you who locked the door.

I broke ranks before I was born
I turned the tables on my own
good sense and decency
my secret-agent mind
went in and rerouted,
rewired, triggered
and flipped the switches
so far back
I can't even see when.
and I can't really breathe
the air you're feeding into me.
but it feels nice in the darkness
of this room.

I am a plastic head
flattened nose
saran wrapped teeth
and eyes full wide and glistening.

I'm dying.
please cut me loose

lundi, décembre 27, 2004

Reasons to Write

I can't think of many
only twelve
or maybe a dozen
or so
they all end in words
like "damn"
or "shit"
and a helpless sigh
and a crumpled kleenex
and useless hands
on useless legs
sitting in a chair
that won't move
from the center of my thoughts
where I spent hours with you