The feast of Saint Jude (eating the impossible causes)
Someone/thing put a magnet in my heart
It acts as a repellent, and at other times
A disinfectant.
Open heart surgery sounds enticing
Something to match my iron lung
Designer organs are all the fashion this season
Sutures running up and down the torso
Pins and needles in my retinas
Arteries dangling from the ceiling
Give me the good graces to remain a puppet
A Marionette YES THANKS guide me good master
I renege the responsibility of my motor functions
Beat me down with random debris you find
Floating about these puddles of my dreams
They do torment me to follow them all
But the dreams scream/shriek/speak to me each night
Can’t chase them, can’t catch them
So then let them hang me tight in their noose
Whilst I try to swat away the future
Narcolepsy sounds tempting
The dreaming awake
Burning leaving ash
Of hope
Hope no more
Despairing no longer
Suckling like a new born on each day
Until the marrow is gone
Leaving only the bone to gnaw upon