I
This is what I do when I can’t sleep.
Write my hate notes while others dream deep.
I draw shapes of plight with my pen
And I’m dysfunction and I’m all dark.
II
I can’t watch my rind wringed anymore.
Between bone and skin
Is a hole where my soul once flowed.
Now floored.
III
Beat back: broken back:
The stain of us.
The vacuum of us.
The timely death of us.
I draw shapes of plight with my pen
dreaming dysfunctions and all dark.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
I
This is what I do when I can’t sleep.
Write my hate notes while others dream deep.
I draw shapes of plight with my pen
And I’m dysfunction and I’m all dark.
II
I can’t watch my rind wringed anymore.
Between bone and skin
Is a hole where my soul once flowed.
Now floored.
III
Beat back: broken back:
The stain of us.
The vacuum of us.
The timely death of us.
I draw shapes of plight with my pen
dreaming dysfunctions and all dark.
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