Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Metaphysical Scrutiny

Everything is so blurred,
The visions I once had of perfect family life
Have become a part of the deceased.

I am in no one's arms,
There isn't a person here who will hold me.
I hold myself. There is no one telling me not to.

If tears were blood,
I would have been dead by now
For crying would be suicide to someone who cries too much.

The padded room that held my emotions
Has been torn down for renovations.
My emotions have turned crazy, much as I have.

I am an unfinished product of work,
There is no one to complete me,
There is no one to demur me.

Evil didn't touch me,
But then again,
Maybe love didn't either.

The fire that binds me to the family,
Has burned itself out.
How gauche, at now of all times!

September 22, 2004

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Metaphysical Scrutiny

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