Could Be So Much Worse - 05/12/11

So you want a happy song?
A nice serenade?
Something kind
To whisk your mind away?

But here’s a sad note
And another desperate line
Crystalline teardrops
Falling in time

You see,
What if it was my name on a bomb?
Dropped on civilians
In a war so long?
What if the characters of my name
Continued a conflict that I wish would refrain?
And what if I wished
That I was that bomb
Falling to desert with a startling thud
What if I wished
That I couldn’t fly?
What if I wished to still try?

What if I chewed my fingers to the bone
And gnawed my lips right off?
What if I screamed
With pleasure at the scene
Of my own blood
On marble?
What a sight to marvel

What if I cut down my chest
And opened a bleeding soul?
Let insanity squeeze
Into every line of poetry
Let all the crows fly
Just to be shot from the sky
By lightening
And drift back to the Earth
Like snow

Isn’t it pretty?
Isn’t it pretty?
Isn’t it pretty,
The red rain?
My wet face?
The dark nights
Brought to life
By mechanical LED lights?
The long conversations?
The fleeting temptations
To step off the face of the world?

We thought I was better
But there’s no way
Not when there’s still
Another pill
That might cure a disease
That I probably don’t have
Why would I wish
For a psychiatrist
To cry to
When I have friends?
I’m not insane
Just a little pained
At least,
That’s what I tell those friends

So where do I place
The pallium surface
Of a decentralized brain?
Is there a way to keep taste
While removing sight
And sound
And smell
And feel?
Because the metal of blood
Is smooth on the tongue
As you’ll know if you’ve ever bit
A bit to far into your skin

And these are even
The full whipped cream
On this gory meringue
That comprises my dreams
My thoughts are disgustingly dark
And I think that’s why
They’re so appealing

I need a little outlet
That isn’t quite cutting
And isn’t quite shutting
My brain completely down
Every time anything goes south
So don’t mind if I indulge
On the image of my body
Mangled and cold