My owl-wise image
When I am owl-wise by my flower hour
Raging against the hog-tried boulevards
That speed against my veins
Tried true, in this battlefield
Filled with memories
Gushing innocence and minutes
That cringe through drainpipes
And diminish as quickly as a teardrop
So slow; so every drudgingly slow
What is this touch I feel?
It’s a dagger reaching inside of me
Yet I love the finger that caresses
Lining my elbow and backbone
With your gentle embraces
But it is a thorn in my temple
It pierces me thoughts
I cannot even concentrate
Most days I wish I was a bird
Who could fly away
To never feel the bitterness of loss
And go unabridged before the crowd
And not feel shame
To not feel the skin crawling like centipedes
And that I must be a monster
A mistake
A goddamn horrible accident
O’ sweet heavens!
Some relief with a cup of wine
Is all I crave
But I get this vision
Penetrating my eyelids
Why won’t you stay buried
I fucking buried you!
Can’t you hear my pleas?
When I whisper through bedsheets
That are stained with saliva and salty tears
I shutter and wake up disturbed
In my own home; frightened in my home
And this is my hell
And I will not rid of you soon
You are my ghost
The one true ghost
And am I sad?
I don’t know what that means
I have no bearing beyond my face
Every day I see my stars dwindling
Hanging by a thread
And I am discontented
Because I don’t know how I can...
I swear retribution on you
You’ve stolen from me
You fucking bastard!
I’m not whole, im missing
No boy should ever feel this
This was never of my making
So world please pardon me
I never wanted this
I don’t even recognize my own image
I’m a half person
A remanent
A false image
A goddamn joke!
