I don’t want to know,
No, I don’t really care.
I don’t want you to show me
How you’ll always be there.

Because I don’t think I will,
No, not for a while.
So just allow me to ****
This mindless smile.

It is doing no favours
For you or for I,
It’s not making me braver,
Just guiltily sly.

My heart pours
smooth like a
fine red wine,

And I scowl and
scamper for a
glass in the night,

So it can land so
safely and surely
for consumption.

But someone always
drinks it so fast
with no remorse.

And it was I
who poured it.
I allowed it
to be drunk.

If I could lie in bed, by my window
forever, I would. But only when
it’s dark and stormy outside and
the wind whistles by my side,
around the middle of November.

If I could listen to the trees roar
and growl, so peacefully loud,
not here with me, but still so
close, I would jump at every chance.

If I could feel the subtle draft
of chaotic darkness kiss my
cheeks and bare shoulders
for years and years, I would.

A country road with
a hazel glow, that
settles around the
watching lazy clouds.

Some kindly fox
that creeps and sits,
camouflaged in a
familiar field of corn.

The floating flies that
swarm adrift, they’re
careful not to try to
care about anything.

Smells of sweet air,
of apples and of pears
and of heat that hugs
your drooping nose.

This land which I don’t
know, and never have I
been will allow me to
visit maybe one day.

Did you ever hear about ******* Lil?
She lived in ******* town on ******* hill,
She had a ******* dog and a ******* cat,
They fought all night with a ******* rat.

She had ******* hair on her ******* head.
She had a ******* dress that was poppy red:
She wore a snowbird hat and sleigh-riding clothes,
On her coat she wore a crimson, ******* rose.

Big gold chariots on the Milky Way,
Snakes and elephants silver and gray.
Oh the ******* blues they make me sad,
Oh the ******* blues make me feel bad.

Lil went to a snow party one cold night,
And the way she sniffed was sure a fright.
There was Hophead Mag with ***** Slim,
Kankakee Liz and Yen Shee Jim.

There was Morphine Sue and the Poppy Face Kid,
Climbed up snow ladders and down they skid;
There was the Stepladder Kit, a good six feet,
And the Sleigh-riding Sister who were hard to beat.

Along in the morning about half past three
They were all lit up like a Christmas tree;
Lil got home and started for bed,
Took another sniff and it knocked her dead.

They laid her out in her ******* clothes:
She wore a snowbird hat with a crimson rose;
On her headstone you’ll find this refrain:
She died as she lived, sniffing *******

Outside, below
I am teased so
Coldly, by a
Dark, dull and
Dismal morning.

Then I hear the
Kind click of the
Radiator ascending.
Hugging my feet.
Kissing my shins.

I’m not going to
do today. I refuse.
I can’t. For when I
Try, I feel nothing.
Nothing at all.

My tutor will have
to wait. And my friends
will have to wonder.
Only for a second, a
mere moment or two.

Somebody has crept
Up and into my room,
Inside of my heart
And taken what was
Once beating well.