paper

sanity unpicked

on sunday afternoons
i feel my shoulder blades
splitting, crackline tearing
feeble attempts at plastering
away till there's nothing there,
just a great big hole of foolishness.

i carry the weight of my insanity
and worries and when they get
too much i stash them away
in a corner of my heart, to
save for another day, till
it all gets too much, and
i am breaking down.

watch the world whirl by,
hold my broken boned arms
up and whisper from cracked
lips like shattered yellow porcelain
have your good day but please,
will you help me find mine?
the silence kills my soul.