This head of mine will break its own neck
I should've reached out to another but alarm bells rang
Should've wrote the book on how to get better
But how do I recover when this brain will bite and bitch?
Should've put her in a straitjacket he whined
The girl who was a child but who really was a woman
They thought I was crazy so I kept the plot going
Easier to shhh than to speak and be done
I knew what would happen and yet it happened
Better to be fooled with your eyes wide open
I thought this life would find me in a lighter note
But sunny sands don't indicate a brain vacation
I'd try to sleep but this brain thinks things that don't need to be thought
The lists I didn't finish, the people I didn't cherish
And things like
If the bitch is a dog and a dog were to growl
Is it a bitch bitching or a mutt who hates the door?
Either way you'll find me on the floor
The woman who is a girl but really a child
Using the carpet as her sheets because that's what she remembers
Because that's what feels deserved
And this isn't a ten step program we can follow from this hole
Promise I'm not addicted to the weight of the world
I don't take pleasure out of tearing myself up
But it's what I do to keep me from that straitjacket
And besides, white is so not my color
Promise I won't placate pain with humor
I'll fight every step backward with shitty prose and a busy ear
Because above all, with this brain and this woman and these thoughts
I will not take his bitching and I will not be his dog!
June 9th 2020
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Learning
PoetryShe's a working progress. - Part II: are you ready? you're here. Second collection of vent(?) poetry. Sometimes posts on other sites as @alessandro Cover created with stock photos and Snapseed
