Mess

 

I am a mess

inside my head,

ideas roam about like cattle

chased by dogs and men.

Constant fear and fullness

Hold the world near to me.

My voice stops at my mouth,

held british tight no weakness.

Pour spirits thru my teeth,

my very own sweet mouth,

will weaken, face redden, eyes brighten,

words trickle out, drop by drop.

I am moving further back into my head,

a full world there,

where I can marvel,

an animal only,

with the sensual spirit of the earth.

I am transcending,

I have nothing,

I am nothing.

Do not speak.