For Patty -- January 7, 2002
Tormented by specters borne of imagination
Exaggerated shadows seep blood to all sides
Light is mirage, illusion, in self-imposed blackness
Fears feed well on a teat of self-loathing
No room for weak realities amid crowds of perceptions
Yet perceptions adhere with barbed thorns
Attempts to ascend seem futile, unreal
Polished marble extends no purchase
All that is certain is what we share
You set the price my life is worth
Parameters of my world are what you draw
And yet I bring disease to paradise
Set you on pedestals and then shake the bases
Promise dreams and spin fresh nightmares
Say I trust and then interrogate
Offer love and then torment
Plead for smiles and push to tears
I’m sorry
Sorry
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment