Soft and sweet
My dreams tell me that I am mortified, petrified, terrified
Angry that the former continues to torture me
Powdered paints, oil, and fingers put my thoughts on canvas
I heard once that geniuses choose green
I saw once a lie in your eyes
and too much of my color breeds anger.
Would you take me anywhere?
Stop.
Awake for 48 hours
Asleep for 24
with warmth and touch thrown somewhere amidst it all.
The russian sings
"An incurable humanist you are. Let's go to the movies. I will write you a song about nothing at all."
She sings
"An incurable humanist you are. Loveology. You-ology. me-ology. kiss-ology. stay-ology. please-ology. Let's study. sit down."
Teeth cleaned
red paint above my scarred eyebrow
just like my brothers.
And my mother, oh my mother, ours is a tragic story.
Can you help me forgive it all? Forgive her, and the former, and myself?
Please. stay.
My dreams had no color last night, and they were not lucid as usual.
I have no control of wandering eyes or nervous hands
Dogs scream as the saint walks throught the door
