you have derailed me
you handed me flickering pictures of
sentiment and golden innocence
and now I am wrecked

sliced open
watching myself bleed with indifference

I cannot shape this wound with metaphor
It is too vast to fix that way
And I cannot see the reasons why I should from here

so now I am stumbling in the vaulted rooms of my past
with my eyes grimly shut
fighting off the smell and sound of it

but the flavour of my own inadequacy sours my breath
and pills and wine and darkness
will not remove the taste