Monday, 19 November 2012


you do not do, you do not do
any more, black shoe 
in which i have lived like a foot 
for 20 years, poor and white, 
barely daring to breathe or achoo. 

i'm tired, i'm fed up with you 
know your brain's patterns and content 
several times i almost choked you. 
like a cassette played again again and again
every day you hammer on my brain.

i guess you must let it out 
or else there might be an explosion, 
the choice's either of us- 
your therapy to me is poison
i can never talk to you, 
the tongue stuck in my jaw
i've always been scared of you. 

but don't blame yourself, today's just the day
i have had enough, with you, 
for me there's no other way
ach, du, now i'm through. 

(distorting a poem by Sylvia Plath) 

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