Monday, June 22, 2009

words of a thirtysomething


It's strange, this feeling that sometimes presents when I am alone. In the stillness I sense it, hope with a dash of fear, because my ego is desperately trying to hold on...

...but I'm too grown for that



ego

he is suffocating me
pressing pillow down firmly
I strike out and try to scream
but he is too strong for me

I have lived within him long
made him sing my endless song
made him change his name to wrong
made him think he was not strong

but he had to go and grow
recognize my presence know
if he does not murder me
he will be my casualty

now I lay here close to death
fighting until my last breath
knowing if he does kill me
he'll retain my memory


habit

my refusal
to take part in the illusion
you cling to
with your habitual I love you
is of benefit to us both
who have outgrown
the empty words that we both spoke
when we were emotionally broke
I choose not to cling to hope
or perpetuate the joke
so if you ask me for more dope
my answer will be (pause) nope


the last days of twenty

stroke, breathe
stroke, breathe

seed
bleeds

pick, pick, pick
scabs
make me sick
still
pick, pick, pick
prick

stroke
dick

sweet
treats

eat, eat, eat
eat sweets
eat meats

feed
gluttony

unhealthy
state of me

regret
connect

take him in
you love him

no
don't

stop
won't

think like that
not like that

old habits don't want to die
new spirit does not know why

as the twenties bid goodbye
and thirty is realized


Signed,
thirty