Category : Poems
Sub Category : N/A
I cannot see this rope that grips my heart
But I am sure it is there.
It becomes difficult to breathe everytime I try to speak of it.
No one can see it,
And I know I'm not crazy.
There is a crank behind my head,
It is powered by two mice.
If it public the black one runs on his wheel,
And my mouth moves on it own,
Without warning, at incredible speed.
No one can see this either.
At night the white one runs,
Replaying my screw ups and encounters.
Over and over he runs,
Thirty minutes pass,
Then an hour.
I can't be crazy.
During the day when I go out to shop,
A guy follows me with a rod.
Every time someone is looking,
I get a jolt from him.
It's even worse when someone touches me.
No one knows he is there.
Everyday these things,
No one sees,
Or hears,
Torment me everyday without fail.
I cannot speak of them,
So I write them.
