back to where I started

I feel stoopid and contagious
good for nothing
but filling spaces
disappointments and contusions.
Bruises from this weeks war.


I am too tired to answer
but you keep wanting some reaction
but I am glassy and deeply hidden
I have forgotten all my words.


I see you like a museum
an exhibit of normal living
I see through the dirty spaces
that litter up my mind.


All around is pleasant distrust
a surface of genteel life
but just below the surface
is a load of unspoken worries.


I used to wonder why they hated us
our parents and our leaders
but now they so rarely see us
that the hatred must be only
for the images in their heads.


I want to be just normal
not watching for those gaps
but history has groomed me
to be a master of deconstructing the pauses others make.


I want to value sanity
and build it like a castle
but madness is much easier
as the journey is well know.


I wish I could heal
pulling those sliced pieces back together
I would sew it very slowly
make careful even stiches so the scars look deliberate
like a part of last year's fashions.


The madness makes me question
every single thing
while I have smelt the roses often
was it often enough?
Will my love wear out the thing
I really want to treasure?


Will my cat run out of purrs?
Or the dog live in mental agony
as he cannot fulfill his life dreams
of speaking ancient Latin or writing rhyming prose?


Will I forever deny myself
the option for calmness?
forever wedded
to the weirdness that surrounds me?


"Rectal indemnity"
why do I say you so often?
the rippling of your letters
leading my brain to freedom.


Today, even CHAV boys don't calm me
and words taunt me to become my foes
and I feel lost and stupid
back to where I started....