I was just a gaunt, decrepit figurine on your losing team, a bloodhound in the swamp who wailed for new instructions (Teach me how to live) When I was summoned to eradicate the clues I faithfully destroyed, and feigned serenity, our palace and our hands clean
You conspired with sprites and spirits in a campaign of attrition, against my brightest ambitions.
The garden heaved Calsap Rhododendrum I ripped them out like weeds, their Rorschach pedals made mysterious the wretched While beneath the soil dead charlatan's bottles, were promising to heal my shattered mitochondria The doctors obscured on yellow paper, I left them drying on a sill to archive their lies.
I spent my nights with the croaking frogs, who mated to proliferate And above me, the Crab Nebula so full of life that it broke, twisted pulsations slowly while my own light was too dim for Alhazen. So to burst was pointless.
There's no Isis to collect my limbs to nail and glue the broken shards I tie my stalk, against a rotting trunk Never good enough for my own plot.
I'm the yellow bruise from the grief ballet, the shattered wheel in the cavalcade but life flows in my veins, like St. Elmo's fire I'm the lonely mare that is caked in shit, the crippled mast that the waves have hit I don't want you to view me. I just want you to soothe me.