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Somewhere between the middle-life,
Lying , corpse-like upon soft sheets of my bed.
A beating, breathing, bleeding lump of meat I lie.
Deserted by all grace or ambition.
Feeling how weary I’ve grown through years
A hapless victim of my life..
Bound to the rusty chains of time.
I am a mortal. Here my mortal lies.
I think back of when my eyes first opened,
And I imagine that moment as it were mine
My Red Twisting body, celebrating nine months of life.
The fact I was born, meaning I have to die.
Yet, somehow now I seem to forget to feel.
The smells I sense, the noises I hear, a body taken for granted
Oh! Let me feel and be Alive..
Do not with your words confine me, with your obligations bend me
Love me for the beating, screaming, crying, fucking, laughing, loving being that I am.
Rip these chains and let me feel.
As I have life- why not abuse.
Why give me life, and life not use?
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The Colour of Pleasure
