Back when my mother fled,
I casted dreams about the greedy in black night,
I forgot about acceptance,
And embrace of youthful rites-
Who’s pages may shred,
Of red and white,
From blades I’ve bled,
In deep depths of night…in bed.
I formed bonds with things,
Folk held together by string,
Wrung and wring,
They hang and swing,
From ceilings that have left me,
Thrown into skies of infinity…
And beyond what I choose to understand.
Affections subside from shambling on uncharted nerves,
Stabbing at my adulterated nervous system,
Mother actualized the fear of abandonment that amplifies in my childish ears while alone,
Screams from trite organs clinging to externals,
Give my hands reasons to act infernal toward people generally believed good.
When the screams stop, undoing my trouble,
I will dance toward the running emotion,
And embrace it tightly with sore feet and stinging arms,
To return it home…again.