Diagnostics of the Varied Type

December 1, 2010
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You took an X-Ray of my brain,
to try and see inside
to maybe see if you could help,
but you didn’t realize….

The tangled graph of sugared blocks,
kept forcing you away,
the over-ivyed walls
not even your own heartened sword could slay.

Sometimes I ask you why you still
try to break my mortered glass,
you look at me, laugh and say,
“Because I see right through your mask.”

Like melting clocks and watered ink,
my words can’t seem to stop,
they’re running down these plastic walls,
as garbled as a satin mop.

So overall, I’d like to say thank you for your hours,
I see you care,
Yet I still feel like a leadened flower.

It’s all my fault,
I guess I’ll go,
that X-Ray’s clear as mud,
I’ll halt my mouth from opening for fear of a verbal flood.





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