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I crawled out my window to see you,
The moon,
And ask these questions of you
(as if you'd understand--
silver silence shining stupidly)
I walk all night long
Hidden beneath my thick wool jacket
From the rain
And your eyes.
If I could bleed, or sleep--
Maybe then this restless ever waking hopeless
Feeling
Maybe this solution in my veins, so meaningless
Might drain through a nightmare's seive...
Maybe then I might live.
Instead, I can't help but think
As my jacket is pounded against me
By your eyes
And the rain,
This life is trapped inside my body--
It wants to be free.
Tender veins, brittle bones,
The gelatinous weight of my eyes in my skull
All penetrated through so easily
By anyone, anything willing--
A scalpel that sinks through flesh neatly, wild dogs white teeth tearing at muscle,
Intoxicated murderers
In heavy machinery, and the focused and thoughtful
Mercy killers
Myself
And your eyes
And the rain.
A game where I'm always the victim,
And my life cut away so cleanly
Except for the mess of the paperwork, aftermath,
Except for the mess of the living
Left dripping and pulsing on a newspaper from last week.
The eternal hardship of the living, like you
Who fears to suffer alone
And so keeps me straining;
And so refrains my blood, my bones
To my body against my will.
------
She falls softly down from towering pedastools...
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