You know; when you throw a ball at a wall
Again… and again, and again, and again…
And it bounces back?
…People can be like that wall:
It is so
To just throw the wheel from the road.
Like the urge as a student after violin lessons
To taste the metal of the oncoming train:
All alternative senses pallid and dull
As then, I am now isolate.
Friendship not so much a memory;
Love not so much a yearning;
A world where blood cannot but run
All sensibility a reminder of absence
A puzzling mystery.
When the only flavour to the pallet of feeling
The ball bounces back.
…i cry, and i cry, and i cry, and i cry.