Monday, August 21, 2006

Something may have happened to me. Something bad.

Be afraid of the lame;
They'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old;
They'll inherit your soul
Be afraid of the cold;
They'll inherit your blood
Apres moi, le deluge
(After me comes the flood)
- Regina Spektor, Apres Moi

This is How I Feel, or at least Felt at Three in the Morning Last Night

I have something to tell you
It's all in here, believe me,
But for the first time ever,
Unprecedented in my sordid history
I have to end this poem
With frailty I hope you'll view positively
The loaded neut - cum words - No Comment.

It's not for lack of want for telling
It's not information withheld at gunpoint
It's not cowardice, or money, or contentment ha!
It's something, my dears, my foes, all together more fearful -
Almost sinister.

Believe me the jaw is working, the tongue flicks out
Compressed air - expels it angrily, yes it does
And the night holds my words in quicksand
Sunken by the weight of impending sleep,
Suckled away
For another day "in dazed"
Wanting to sleep, where the truth can hurt me
But it can force me to remember,
The helplessness, the lies, the madness
High browed, finely moulded
I can't stand it.
I can't stand any of it.

And I am trapped in all the words...

And all, all I can bear to say is...

A -
Compressed wary cry for help
A -
bout a growing person who
cannot let go
Scream, reveal a note!

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