I am tired of this pervasive madness
I am not so sure one can sense it
Although it bursts through my meridians
As it is now
It is our ineluctable destiny
And I have grown to be so familiar with
Your temperate attention

I dare you
To think that I would not tear down
Your mother's curtains
And spit on her jewelry
While you are weeping at her grave
But I knew god ****** well
That somber room was no place to call 'home'
If my trembling hands could speak
They would tell me I am
Estranged.