not much mattered at the time
nothing but getting through and then getting the hell away.
No matter how many times I say it or repeat the story,
escape is the one thing that remains out of reach.
now forgetting such personal tragedy may
not be what the professional shrinks would recommend
I still try for it.
I still hate hospitals
I still remember the delicious fried chicken
on a morning after starving myself from food,
in deep sorrow at my limit.
funny things happen when you get out on
those kind of limbs without a saw.
you are forced to live with the pain and fear.
You make all the concessions which you feel
will help...even if they seem empty.
no drink will cure it
and you begin to hate beauty...well I did.
Preachers come in and pass the time,
tree's grow and birds flutter by cold windows
your view is the smokestacks of the city
when you are out on the edge
between faith and out of joy.
Just you and a little bit of hope...
you will somehow escape.