COVER-UP

Cover-Up

pm 1203192

Some crying in the darkness, whimpering

I cover my ears but I can still hear it

clear as day.

A whimper of suffering, pain,

pain by torture, or torture of the heart,

human beings have devised so many

forms yet the cries remain the same,

lost loves imitate having your fingernails

torn out and you lose the ability to

differentiate between the two.

Free yourself from mental pain and the

physical becomes the easy part.

Hack off a limb and they sew it back

on, painkillers are free to those who

suffer from limb-loss, how could they not

be, injured brains that deserve just as

much numbing are afforded nothing

and brain synapses once removed cannot

be reattached or sewn back on,

morphine can cover up a lost testicle

but what's to be done about a lost soul

and where will they find a place

to rest without an intact soul to

confirm your reservation?

The cloud has moved in from the horizon

and covers us all with a fine mist,

we are witness to the lack of being,

the lack of love and the lack of

trust, I feel it as deeply as a three-ring

circus, far too difficult to watch

all three at the same time, I concentrate

on one and hope thats where the real

show is about to take place.

The tent top billows and I know there

is a storm outside yet here in my chair

the rain has yet to permeate the

canvas or filter through my skin to the

bones. I have won but I too have lost

so much, way too much, unable to buy

any of it back. I search anew for something

different and only end up pining more

for what I have lost.

It startles me to think about the cost of

what is left to buy and how I never

covered what was left in my savings

I was ruined before I was born,

as was the rest of the world,

don't write a cheque that won't be accepted

at the liquor store and don't feel anything

when you are expected to be at your worst.