Poetica Spontenaium 05.29.04
(Warning: Goth mode poem ahead. Warning! Warning!)
Dearest Shame and Melancholy
Old friends who visit too long
Whose comfort I find in breast-beating
And whispers lacking song
Your company is tiresome
I’m too polite to ask you to leave
Your confessions ever mournful
When I have too much to bereave
The burden of your company
An obligation or an indulgent pang
As you gently drape a silken rope
Against my throat to hang
No one was ever innocent
Blame, a bitter dose to take alone
Was Guilt ever better?
With that sharp needle made of bone?
To pierce until I bleed
Or with supplication to nightmares
A better way to drown in mercury
Sinking heavy, mad, through dark air.
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