Dissociate

A blood smear on the table.
I think I don’t know how to live,
I think
Perhaps
There is a sense of an ending
A sense
Of ground turning
A thawing
A sense
Of decay.

I cradle a baby.
Together we are flesh.
One and one.
I watch the carousel
My slow consideration
Of the show
Colours and pride
And everything that died
In me.

You who
Inhabited
My dark,
The most shallow place.
All blackened fractures
You slowly seep to
Tar.
I hear the night begging
for my blood
Black hooded soul,
Horseman of
My dreaded night.

I plead to be pieced together
Before I rupture
My heart
An abscess
Bled to an empty sack
An empty sack
Of bones
And a body that says hello.

Do you know
You stood at the foot of my bed
A call
In my slowly fading
Echo chamber.
I hear the beat of God’s heart
In the toll of a bell.
Calling all those
Who want mercy.
I wilt
In the vacuum of my self disgust
Tulips grow
From my green earthed
Soul.

Send me back (poem of mine)

Tainted apple of my soul,
Sealed,
In my envelope of hope.
What worm
Hunted your silky flesh
Like a rifle to your tenderness.

I hate the night,
Yet
Happily,
I resign to sleep
Then I wake,
Grey brained as a cigarette.
Just send me back
Boil me down.

Or let me rest.
Just a raindrop
on your windowsill.

Biscuit in the kitchen (poem of mine)

I ate a biscuit
A ginger one
Looked out the kitchen window
And the grass was stiff,
could snap.

And my sister was having her life
And the cat was having her life
at the cat flap.
That little window like a little square soul
with little interesting birds
or whatever they were
Moving around
And keeping her alive.

Sometimes I forget that I am empty
I forget that people think I’m nice
But I feel crabby and scabby
and just leave me alone.

Without words and poems
I can’t even feel how empty I am
And my soul has no little birds
like the cat and her window.