THE ONE I BOUGHT
There are fairy tales I never gave credence to. Multiple bear stories don’t move me. Cats with footwear have not warranted a second thought. True love-----now that one I still buy hook, line and sinker. Work hard and true love will fix the rest; that is what I have always believed. The evil spell I have walked under during my sad little life will be broken only by the durable and all-fulfilling love of my betrothed. Each time this plan fell through, the blame was leveled at the wrongness of the match but not the wrongness of the plot. Anytime I work to be restored to sanity by one person, I have displaced a rightful power and thrown myself to the sea.
Let a whisker width of optimism carry your day.
In the echo chamber it is the cymbals
which cause the most pain.
The drums resound, deep and loud,
but it is the crashing of brass that drives me wild.
Cotton, wool and sealing wax
cannot put my head at ease.
Resonate walls with their hollow effects
create the feedback loops of hurt.
Like the endless reflection of parallel mirrors
the sounds come back to me with relentless repetition.
Aural illusion might have been the idea,
but chaos is the result.
Leaving the space between these ears
will be, will allow, the band to play on
without the benefit of my torment.