Mothers Cold Hands
(Slits) The hands are fringed with ice,
twisted, bare, folded over the chair.
Eternal rest. Misfortune comes in a
package. The sky blinks, writhes in compulsion.
Pain tastes like the sea ablaze.
Looking through the mirror all I hear
is my mother's face.
(Cry) Broken, withered, a million pieces shattered.
This pen is bleeding into my veins. Sweet.
Things are piling up and I see you,
hanging from that bed. Eyes staring,
tearing- spittle upon the dead.
I'll never see her face.
(Blood) Cold, he wraps me up tight. Shower her with kisses,
hugs, bullets through her wounds.
She's got a flight, tonight.
You two… you too. I'll go to school.
It hasn't. No reports.
No newsflash. No standstill. No nothing.
The only thing that still stands still-
is nothing. Phone goes ring.
A circle if I ever saw one. Mutters,
stutters and I'm out to paradise.
Stop with the shouting. Calm. Tranquil.
Lessons split by trains. Wait. Why am I telling you this?
Spit it out. That's it.
You don't understand anyway. Forgive me.