Let me in,
just for a little while.
In your skin,
let me know just why
your line is so thin.
I’ll help you make your mind
up again.
You look like you’ve been struggling
with some kind of formula,
lost in the vortex,
riding the parabola,
all wild and enormous
and I’d like to come.
I don’t need to know
your secrets.
I don’t even need a clue.
I already know your deepest;
half an inch in to you.
You’re simple and uncomplicated,
all fear and guilt and petty lies
and not just a little bit of anger.
Nothing here
is much of a surprise.
I want to know
if you’re
even conscious.
I’m sure
that you’re unaware,
that you are such a burden
to everyone around you.
You’re high on virtue,
but really,
just a few seconds away from murder.
So much blood on your hands
already,
don’t disappoint us now.
You really want the crown,
but you’re not worthy.
What a pretty
shame spiral.
No wonder you
have so many friends
on line;
just an automaton,
like them.
A perfect,
routine algorithm.
Even your lows are pretty high,
so you’re personified,
by a world
that would never,
ever hurt you,
until now.
HG – 2019