Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Me, manyheaded, mad

Greased and grainy, my soul
What I feel, I do not know
Pangs and longing
See in you, my belonging

Words and silence
Interwoven so one more than the other
What it means I thought I knew
No more so methinks

Rumbling ball of black guilt
Thundering down my past or future
Crush me, I say; end this pain
Come for me; consume, devour

Slice my heart, my throat
Speech sharp as razor
Native issue from native heart
Good too much evil become

Thoughts a fleeting
Many I comprehend, many a wasting
Equally sound, in own right and might
Me, manyheaded, mad

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