I feel like I’m being killed
by an invisible dagger
What is it?
My soul? Maybe –
Is my soul in my brain
mechanical doll
can’t stand straight
and look in the eye of the
danger
at the cemetery
at the grave
it’s dark
but I can’t feel anything
It’s foggy and dull
I’m looking into the hollow eyes of nothing
she is dead
What does that mean?
there
really
d.e.a.d
it is inexplicable
things like that were not supposed to happen
I’ 12 and I’m very depressed
love fantasy
jesus
pills
creating an altar
but my sister is not into religion
orange carpet
and I
loneliness
almost masculine
harsh
the imagination
of the catholic church
is rigid
i need more spring
more spring flowers and water
but not to holy mary
this men in white gowns must be very sad
priests
boys in entrapment
It was a dream about us being those special sandpit friends
in a nice love-unity
and joy
of building something
together
without hitting each other with a spade on the head
and scheming to destroy your underground tunnels
when everything seemed to go great
conspiring with the district gang
how to win over me
I had a dream of us being different then them
But those things are impossible
how could I forget that you are the only child
all this mistrust
and
ego trips
I retreat
to the very end of the park
to talk with the sunshine instead
and play with pebbles and dirt
but then
the anger at your murderous betrayal
hits me
so
I
watch you and your gang
delaying my revenge
don’t you think I forgot
about hate
not yet
antiinsanityblog 