Tell me again what it's like to have daisies growing out of your veins,
Where forget me nots grow through brambles and turn bright blue
and then they die.
Tell me again, of their full, natural life where their petals are shaded by the trees
and left untouched by animals,
And where they never knew a hurting heart
would pluck their petals
and discard them to rot.
Tell me again.
I'm tired, my love. My beautiful boy.
I'm not coming home tonight, my love,
I'm taking the red train tonight, my love.
You see, I'm going to the train station and I need to take the blue line, first.
They run perpendicular, you know this, beautiful boy,
I just have to regurgitate my thoughts so that they
can stay inside my brain.
But I need to take the red line, I need to be inside of my arteries for once,
Instead of your veins
with the bustle of the concrete city streets over head,
they walk on your skin and,
I, the parasite,
I hide in your core to pretend I am not experiencing the earthquake, nothing bad happens on the other side.
Tell me again,
That I have convinced myself in the time I have laid awake
listening to your dreams about how you cannot hate me here in this plane
Of existence, that maybe if I take the red line my areteries can deliver me to a different part of my brain,
Where I am not deranged, where I have oxygen to survive on instead
of the carbon monoxide that swarms my lungs.
The blue line always leads here, dissected under pharmaceutical light.
Tell me again,
Love, why hasn't the alarm stopped?
When do the beeps turn into a sirens call?
JE LEEST
Stasis
PoëzieStasis. 1. a period or state of inactivity or equilibrium. A collection of poetry written mid pandemic and mid depressive spell.
