Lament of Innocence  

Posted by Olsen Potter in

Glancing at my face,
you don’t see it's a mask
to cover the pock-marks
of Schizophrenia.

The brother eyes of
Charles Manson,
my bladed eyes
are blunted by
Prozac and Lexapro. lips
are the lips
of a Crazy;
always smiling.
Want a taste?
I’m told my kiss
unlocks the furnace of Hell.

This sensitive mask
quickly dissolves
when studied,
receding into
a narcissistic skull
of left-over emotion.

Scott, my friend
in the white coat,
tries to discover my ailment,

But I've secreted
these gifts away,

I've buried them
into this opaque flesh.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 02, 2006 at 7:35 AM and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .


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