Landscapes of the Mind - Poems

Crutch

I am sorry that I cannot be the sun

to give you light and warmth, when my own

light has gone cold and black as space.

You say I space out far too often,

that I fail to listen, but please understand;

I cannot catch your every word

perfectly, like snowflakes

on my burning tongue,

because I'm sick

and I just want to sleep.

However, I'll stay up with you

this once, and I will not complain

about your tears that soak my skin

through the pores of my nightshirt.

I won't cry myself until the

room is dark and I'm alone.

I burn like a bulb all through the night.

My mind is very loud; it keeps me awake,

and my thoughts are nervous moths that flicker

and dance around my corona, my flame,

until I'm wrung out like a cigarette.

Remember when you made me

swear I would not leave you?

From that moment I was solidified in concrete.

And you stuck me to it, like a mantra,

clear as a jewel, and true.But do you really think

I'd miss this place, where cracks criss-cross

the ceilings, the staleness of smoke

hangs like the yellowed curtains, and the walls

are paper, they hold nothing out;

the yelling.

the yelling.

O how I deteriorate,

a flower in the dark ---

but you need me, I forgot ---

so I will stay.

No longer a star, I'm now only a rock,

the light sucked out of me

like a thumb, the warmth

slipped from my fingertips, and away;

Please do not take this the wrong way, mother,

when I say you smother me.