A Nightmare*

In my dreams I am the melting man.
Through tinted glass I am without senses.
With eyes that feel the sting of sight and fever of hearing,
I am allowed into the killing ground.

I followed my friendliest faces through some foggy
thick soup that does tickle my eyes
and vex them to lower.

Up again to this lonely temple
Where so many familiarities touch the ground and
my vessel with fatal hands.

First kiss and polystyrene men;
synthetic and terrifying.

Where have I seen you before?-

December 11th
Close your eyes.-

Here we are again.
there are sweats all over
i have been here so many times before and i sweat and cry

the killing grounds
dear mother, take me home, i sweat and cry for i have come here again
take me away? where have you gone?
the killing grounds

the pile of death
hopeless death that is violent and
my poor fragile eyes sweat and cry and
drip away

see those empty faces
of first kiss and polystyrene man
i reach for mothers hand
but i must linger in the mess of filth

December 11
please let me leave

i am losing
skin falls in drips
like cream or paint
and i must join the filth

no crying may save me.