Fact

falling over myself in my dreams
reaching with my shoulders
and my arms can’t move

holding on to nothing strongly
patterning disgrace tile by tile
it’s alright, that’s the way I know

the shiver works its way down
sections snapping in protest
like the yelling in my head

I want to swing wildly
scream obscenities
run full-out crazy
buy me time, just buy me time

can I disappear for a while?
the waiting kills the cells
and the wound heals much quicker
after the fact, after the act
I’m wasting away here
twisting organs in confusion
there’s nothing to sustain me
until I know this torturous fact
.
.
.
.

Copyright L.M. 2007.

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