To Sleep, Per Chance to Dream
Today I will paint my mother's basement.
Since my mother's declaration of independence it makes me feel good to be able to help with things like this. There are many tasks but few laborers. It seems my father will not be welcome upon his return. So it is that I regurgitate:
soft like a statue
gentle like bricks falling on you
such is the method of your touch
healthy like frostbite
nutritiously mixed with cyanide
such is the method of your love
you sent the shivers from my spine into my head
and took the fragments of my stained glass eyes to bed
it cuts so deep
subtle like world war
quiet like steps on a wood floor
such is the method of your peace
strong as a stick man
sane as an Ox with a kickstand
such is the method of your self
you buried worthiness right next to self control
the flag is missing but you still solute the pole
it cuts so deep