Cut me open,
divide me in half,
tell me if my heart beats,
does it lie in my chest?
There's a banging in my head, like hands on a door,
But if I go underwater, I can't hear anymore,
I can drown in deep sleep, all is quiet and black,
There is but a banging in my head, like wails in house walls,
But if I stay underwater, all is gone.
-An Inexpensive Blue Pall
YOU ARE READING
Tangents
PoetryIt's some kind of literary form. Quote me: k.t. Sometimes explaining something does not give it meaning, but leaves it without purpose.
