Feb 02, 2009 20:22
The Tired Call
The call came, again. Not an unexpected call, just a tired one. Oh, yeah, tired. I tell them, all of them. They give their standard reply. Depression. Lack of exercise. Habit. Medicine. No doc, it is different this time. I get a nice pat on the back. That's the end of it. Until the tired call comes. I'm bleeding somewhere. Somewhere? Hiding inside. It could be the brain, heart, stomach, small intestine, large intestine, colon, rectum, vagina, cervix, uterus, urethra, bladder, kidneys, pancreas, liver, lungs and back up to the brain. My circle of life. No my circus of life.
I wonder why I can't "get on" with my life. I let them convince me I am a failure. I don't sleep, much. Rarely make it to REM sleep. Up and down. All around, but never to break free. Circles. Circus of circles. Arcs and sparks. Did you know that electrocution is bad for you health? A steady diet of The Electric Warehouse. The Electric Whorehouse. Mind, body and spirit. Scorched. Seared. Singed.
I will keep riding the ride. It would be a disservice to my staying power of the past to do anything else. Lab rat, once again. Poked. Prodded. Hopefully fixed, at least until the next tired call.
sexual slavery,
survivors of,
abuse,
police brutality