I am here
For you
How shall I help?

What type of balsam do you want?
Sweet injections for your ego?
Or bitter sirups for your soul?
Or maybe an operation in your mind?

But an amputation of your sorrows?
I am not qualified for that!
You have to bear the pain
Pain killers will **** you
Let the feelings sore on
Rot
And fall off

I shall collect them
And throw them away
To the dogs of forgettable times
And the snakes of ellsuive memories

Let them feast
They are hungry
For smelly things

You limp away
And move on
For love can grow again