Is he being serious?
I can't tell
Am I being serious?
I'm not sure
feeling on the brink of something
am I dying?
is this what it's like to die?
I had a lot of good words to say
they were going to come out like a sickly ball of ectoplasm
like a desperate clawing scream up from the floor
but now I don't know what they were
everything I consume is somehow related to who I am as a person
I've spent a lifetime
modeling myself after words, images, phrases, sounds
they are like little helpers
but they are not me
"don't be afraid to care"
"what did you see while you were there?"
I am bursting with joy
I want to laugh, dance, be free to love
my love is all ************ right now
it's all I know
the moon & sky so beautiful this strange winter
deadly sunsets and snow
crystalline space and stars
"how does it feeeeel?"
he asks & rolls over drunk, uncaring
I slipped her something mid-conversation
what was it?: a hint, a look, an eye?
I don't even know really
Was I being myself or not?
"the joke is come upon me"
at last, the irony is concrete
hilariously, beautifully tragic
& yet not at all; more like a lighthearted pun
"we all shine on, like the moon & the stars & the sun"
why & how did it become so difficult?
this is the struggle of every man
this is not my father's insanity, nor his father's
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
Is he being serious?
I can't tell
Am I being serious?
I'm not sure
feeling on the brink of something
am I dying?
is this what it's like to die?
I had a lot of good words to say
they were going to come out like a sickly ball of ectoplasm
like a desperate clawing scream up from the floor
but now I don't know what they were
everything I consume is somehow related to who I am as a person
I've spent a lifetime
modeling myself after words, images, phrases, sounds
they are like little helpers
but they are not me
"don't be afraid to care"
"what did you see while you were there?"
I am bursting with joy
I want to laugh, dance, be free to love
my love is all ************ right now
it's all I know
the moon & sky so beautiful this strange winter
deadly sunsets and snow
crystalline space and stars
"how does it feeeeel?"
he asks & rolls over drunk, uncaring
I slipped her something mid-conversation
what was it?: a hint, a look, an eye?
I don't even know really
Was I being myself or not?
"the joke is come upon me"
at last, the irony is concrete
hilariously, beautifully tragic
& yet not at all; more like a lighthearted pun
"we all shine on, like the moon & the stars & the sun"
why & how did it become so difficult?
this is the struggle of every man
this is not my father's insanity, nor his father's
Request permission to use this poem