Panic hits me near dawn
bewildering like the Mongol horde
Am caught en passant like a pawn
only now, briefly, I recognize the Lord
The coast is clear at about ten
am sane enough to leave my den
fear fades, droning desire steps in
the rush of seduction replaces the imaginary battle din
am I the source of my raging cravings
or is it all just hormonal?
I soak up horrific stories, mankind’s lashings
supplied by German docus and a night shifting doctor friend to feel sorta normal
am re-awakened by a 19 year old writer
I am the candle, she the reluctant lighter
am trying to relive and mend
my stray and bumpy, wasted youth
by trying to water her bashful budding blossoms with tenderness and hard-earned life experience
her heart, well of sweet and sour taste for life I try to loot
offering her a throne in my seasoned skull
yet the foxy lady has no need for my caresses marinated in pseudo-science
I march off with gifts for a student
riding a tram full of exhausted salary addicts who worry about making rent
Let me cheer someone up today
I never want anyone to feel like me, frantic and nowhere to flee, embattled like a scarecrow in Confederate gray
“scarecrow in Confederate gray” i love this part. Already seeing myself sitting in devasted fields, empty of plants and workers, feeling on top of your tongue taste of ash and ground, slow wind going throughtyour face and hair… and in middle just abadonded scarecrow.
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am quite sure you’re the only one to feel the mood here
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Several doctors have asked if I ever had problems with anxiety. I always said no honestly. In the past year I realized how wrong I was.
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