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Sep 2013
she breaths
and the shadow of her hours
pass like rain
falling
shatter on the senses softly
like her words
they penetrate with such tender care
they swallow your heart with such slow and sweet thought
and she breaths
and you know she is near
you can feel the heat
you can sense the reality of her

she breaths
and in the exhalation gives life to the creatures
that haunt the dark places in each mans mind
the twisted thing that has no face
the thing that is all teeth
feeds on the soul
she breaths and the cold air is humbled by her presence
death fears her coming

everybody is chatting in the puzzle house
about her narrow mouth
and the spider she ate
her bent frame vomits sounds like pleasure or pain
slow open of her bluejean legs reveals nothing
but implies everything
he barks like a small dog
at the end of his mental leash
and he runs round in a quick circle and
squats before her spread and lets loose
wagging his virtual tail

the madmen run the place
and you can see it in their eyes
they write their version of history
on the walls
nobody can read it
sounds like gibberish
and thats one of the requirements of the job
is to be able to confuse
while looking dignified
at the puzzle house door

the puzzle is the mind
and nothing is more puzzling to me
than what she had in mind bringing me here
its a fun place
with books and games
laughter and joys
medications and dark nurse's
filled with murderous intents
escape the puzzle house if you dare
mark john junor
Written by
mark john junor  59/M
(59/M)   
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