Saturday, January 28, 2006

Thought Wound

My mind limps
Wounded by a thought
A walk in closet filled to capacity
The gleaming of the bones visible
Through the gap under the door
I am ashamed to tell
To appear stupid
To ask
To remove my armor of lies
A doctor chasing a boogie man
A diagnois that can't be understood
I haven't learned the language yet
Its not healed
It was never set
Healed means a return to normal
Does this look fucking normal to you?

2 comments:

Rocketstar said...

Interesting but I don't get it.

Is one supposed to "get" poetry?

The only poetry I like has to be set to music, e.g. the NIN post I posted on my blog.

Brian in Mpls said...

It is not something one has to get often I think it is just desribing a feeling and it is hard to describe a feeling to someone else....like trying to explian the color purple or what a sunset looks like....OMG...this helps me so much thanks...