persona

I haven't been myself

I haven't been myself
been passing myself off as this other guy
with a golden look and a smile
hiding behind his eyes in mirrors
that kind of thing

been hugging myself close to his wife
because she's so warm and soft
don't know if she loves me or him
she says it's always been me
but I don't know who she means

I feel like a ghost baby, just pushing out
everything's starting to look insane again
like it was years ago - insane and full of light
I wasn't trying to understand it back then
I was just playing

but was that me or the other guy?
he's a whore and a liar, a mobile mask
turned to mother as she claps and kisses.
she made him and without her he's dead -
no one else knows him or needs him

stuck down in the primal dark
I’m afraid I’m going stupid or crazy
I might forget how to speak, how to make
my face look normal, how to move my body,
how to be liked, how to fake it, how to fit in

I haven't been myself
been this mannequin instead
sneaked him into places using my ID
let him use my name and run my life
now I want to come back and he hates me for it

it's natural
he doesn't want to die
and he doesn't understand
when I try to explain that
he never existed
 

Fist

when I found it safer to hate I
became an angler in the lake of darkness

yesterday ate green salad for purity and
white sugar for rotting; kissed this girl
and fucked her and loved her & she’s still here
(what can I do to her now?) &

forgot how to be surprised; forgot how to smile
& just shrieked like an old kettle
blowing to bits, steam killing in sweeps all
around: girl came and ate pain and held me in

sometime I

I was this stupid boy hanging like a
piglet from mama’s tits: Mama Mama
keep me here while you can because when
I’m gone I’m GONE: eat my own food &
scream out loud when I come & I’ll leave you
to smother yourself

the air tinkled with raindrops and seagulls
got dressed & the mirror warped me: told me
‘You are a beautiful man’. & I sickened
but PLEASE: I’ll find my halo and step in
& never be able to pretend again; only
be the same girl as yesterday, tomorrow

The Book of Dreams

I'm a friend killer; I stay the same
while you dream of union and forever,
crying until the next emptiness filler,
Spanish coffee beneath the rain mirror,
cherry blossom in your lying brain.

In mine: a figure in a shadow coat
on a strand that stretches out for miles
under a deep blue dusk; a bell's chimes
like droplets in the silence of his smile.
Music and seaspray, everything that floats.

I cut away my old face in a dream,
slicing carefully beneath the chin,
breathing wetly underneath the skin
of a film star. Then I looked within
in agony. I am not what I seem.

I will wear the ugliness today;
let my eyes turn black and let my mouth
split into a snarl. I'll cast you out
and stand alone and haloed. In my house
there are many mansions: here I'll stay.