The Drowning

Up for three days

up for three days

down under ground for six more

incisions cannot penetrate my feet

tripping, gliding, falling numbly

hands held together with unwanted skin

ripping, hiding calling dumbly

You, in houses of mud

you, in gutter sleep - love

you, born to slaughter - swathed gloves

you dressing daughters and sons

like you - I am broken and fragile

like you - I am tasting my heart for the first time

like you - I am feeding on slumber

like you - I've left my eyes far behind me

down for the count I'm still drowning

I'm still drowning

The eighth day

sleep, the eighth day

clawed my way back to the first

no gentle fingers collapse on my eyes

weeping, prying, struggling blindly

there's no sanity standing me back on my feet

I'm in an empty room

I'm burning books from you

I'm lost in bed with you

breaking these mirrors to end all I've seen

Like you - I am broken and fragile

like you - I am tasting my heart for the first time

like you - I am feeding on slumber

like you - I've left my eyes far behind me

down for the count I'm still drowning

I'm still drowning

I'm still drowning