Hysteria; A Tale of DesperationA Poem by Vanessa
I’ll probably close my eyes, if you’re asking for the truth.
You see, these lies have burned, licked the very pink on the inner flesh of some organ unnamed.
God can tell me what this means
When I meet him there, my feet hot.
Tell me-tell me-tell me
What the f**k I’m doing here
I’ve burned the black away, burned the picture on my wall
Burned the black away,
Burned the black away.
Laugh at me, laugh at me:
It’s still there, dark and mighty,
Night leaves it there
Night lets it linger
Night lets the smoke arise
Because when I’m hidden in the dark
Oh, Jesus, forgive me.
It’s some strange suffering, I’ll say.
And this I’ll see a day and a day, another day added
To today.
Hmm… the smoke, the smoke, the substance
Still rises in the night.
It’s pale against the night
The night
The night that lets it linger.
Laugh, laugh at me.
I myself laugh, will laugh… do laugh
I’m laughing!!
Someone bring the anti-pill pill for me.
Leave it behind the white pillars at my door.
I’m waiting there with a bottle of capsules
The size of your fist.
I’ll smile at you crookedly,
Smoke in my teeth.
Laugh at me, laugh at me.
I’m f*****g laughing as we speak.
I’m f*****g laughing!!
Bring the anti-substance papers to my door.
Let them speak of death and duty,
Stomach pumps and hospital beds.
Put them under the filthy welcome-mat
Right next to the blossoming-
Blossoming-
Blossoming plant.
I’ll be sitting there with a toothy grin,
A syringe in my hand.
You can laugh at me when I tell you that it’s only temporary.
Take a closer look at that plant.
If it’s a weekday, I’ll be at the window,
The one with Antichrist Superstar blasting from a dusty computer.
I’ll tell you that I embrace the idea of God.
I won’t be lying.
Still the music drags with something intrepid
Swirling into fearful ears.
That’s me, hugely grinning down at you with sad,
Dilated
Eyes.
You may laugh.
© 2008 VanessaReviews
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6 Reviews Added on November 2, 2008 Last Updated on November 2, 2008 AuthorVanessaAbout-As an introduction . . . . every place that I go gets an even number of steps. Yet, I don't very much like symmetry. -I love the smell of wet moss when it rains. -There's this ama.. more..Writing
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