Revision

I can't even see past my own eyes most days,
Breathing in this toxic love
Fed to me on a spoon by fat old women in reclining chairs
Who examine me like a patient
And probe me like a lab rat.

I swear I'm on Morphine, because I can't even swallow my pride. I gag, it comes up in neon colors and I'm in the hospital again --
Ball room dancing on cloud-shaped eggshells.


I'M DEAD INSIDE THIS ROCKING HORSE BRAIN OF MINE

I'm teetering, spectating, itchy. I put on the gown and bend the needle,
I'm thrashing with a ten foot nurse cooing "Mother Superior Jump The Gun"

Oh, that hour glass siren sings sweetly! And it burns, so I sweat false contentment while dropping weight like cobblestones because my thee meals come in ounces that prick like winter.

I'm dead in a coma with wide eyes, and I sleep with out rest.

And then
The truth
HIROSHIMA!
I'm crippled, down, but that darkness - that dankness. What a cold blanket.

At the count
of three
I SCREAM

What desperate silence! That sea witch took my voice, my vice... That blood, that gym. INSIDE ME, BLEEDING WITHIN. Draining, within, without notice cause at first glance, I'm just dizzy.

The ceiling is a chess board -- I'm a pawn

Alice doesn't know what lost is like, I've no suit clad rabbit to guide me through this plainly tiled maze. No queens or cats, just white robes with scalpels threatening my purple hair.

I make my stand here.

You may save me, but for the love of christ, for the love of my pretty face, don't shave me.

I'm much too vain for that coldness.