(I’m scared,
oh boy, I’m more than terrified
that everything I say or do has no effect
and no,
that’s not what I’m trying to say)
I’m scared of the day when
I reduce you to less than you are,
I trivialise, deride you, play your
weaknesses and faults
against you, say you
were no more or less than any other
to cover up my tracks
and dowse myself in lines
and wine
and sleep as if I’d never slept:
awake and lie all day in bed,
saying thinking nothing.
and now I’m almost thinking
I’d be better off to skip this –
stop, just lose your lovely
faultlessness –
confess it’d all been a charm,
a dream or something, nothing
(a spin in a cynical light)
downaphiltrum 