MISERY

I'm aware it's a little more 'Half Nelson' than I intended it to be, and a lot of previous lines too, yeah. But still, it's kind of a break-through. I'm proud of it like I'm proud of everything I've given birth to, and subsequently disowned.

When have I rejoiced

in the vitality of life

to know for a fact

that I haven’t died?

When would this cold

help rid me some flesh

so I can feel to the bone,

unsheathed from the comb?

When would my night

be spent in the day,

with the time I’m awake

and things done would stay?

The answer to lies

in moments of truth,

with poison in mind

lies sweetness construed?

Walking to wind up

with circles of thought,

and helical advancements

in safety be brought…

And an alternate being

would wake up to her,

and lie without shame

and smile from the dirt.

'Little Rhymes' sees an addition after quite a while, and so does my poetry folder. Felt like Dan Dunne finally wrote his novel, but I know I just scraped half a page. 'To you', as usual.