I don’t know what to say, I’ve
Been wracking my brains searching
Desperately for the words only to find
An empty dictionary full of insults all
Defined under: Me. Why am I so hard on
Myself? Why is life so hard on itself? Why
Is life so hard on: Me. I can’t see, not properly,
Over horizon lines and drifting dreams are
Vapour in a cloudless sky, mom? What do clouds
Look like? Mom? Am I doing this right? Mom? Oh wait.
At home a permanent piece of artwork, a statuesque
Child, something for visitors to marvel at and utter,
“Poor kid”. I own no rags and I own no riches, the middle
Ground is where I live except for my mind, I find myself
Wandering precariously across tight ropes navigating dope
Ratios into cereal mixtures and wine for lunch, all liquid and
Pills floating like balloons, one by one they pop and I drop,
Back down to where I was born, soon it will be over.
The doctor told me soon will never come.
I’m not dumb, I know what a prison sentence is but for
Once I’d like to miss a parole hearing and just fucking
Live, but these handcuffs are metal and it burns my skin,
All crisp and painful, all dark and din, people stopped
Visiting, there are no cups with my name, she tells me
I’m not to blame but I’ve caught reflections lying more
Than once, I just want to have some fucking fun, and
I’ve run score marks in these carpets from pacing up
And down. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
Will someone help me up. PLEASE