Tuesday, September 24, 2013

the monsters

I’ve got to let the monsters out
or they’ll eat my insides:

If I let them stomp around on paper
they’ll stop their stomping in my skull

I’ve got to let the aching be real
or I’ll lose my mind:

If I hit the walls so my knuckles go blue
then it will only hurt for a while

I’ve got to let the noise out
or I’ll stop hearing things at all:

If I scream till my lungs are empty paper bags
it might be still for once in my chest

I’ve got to sort some things out
or the silent weight will crush my spirit:

If I make the invisible things into pictures
I might start to see what’s the matter with me.

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