My Crying I
My Crying I, belongs to me …
So it’s my ‘eye’ not my ‘I’
(a blink)
and for a split second a release –
and when I cry I find it hard to shut …
because you said some words that were close enough –
to how I feel when I see that my eye doesn’t close,
it just cries a stream that remains because it froze …
and the stream continues to flow, - when I’m happy and it sits –
on my right cheek, refusing to go away, like the light-bulb that swings …
in the dimly right room, it confuses the dark, so I pretend it isn’t there …
and commence at the start …
took you to school and took you to work and all it really took was for someone to learn …
why it’s there and why it sits on the side of my face – the streak is always there just harder to see …
so I sit on an angle and turn my head to speak – to turn this ‘invisible’ line into a pale streak …
just to show that it hurts, to reach out to someone – for every second this is mine – this is my spine, this is my ‘I’ …
My Crying I, belongs to me …
So it’s my ‘eye’ not my ‘I’
(a blink)
and for a split second a release –
and when I cry I find it hard to shut …
because you said some words that were close enough –
to how I feel when I see that my eye doesn’t close,
it just cries a stream that remains because it froze …
and the stream continues to flow, - when I’m happy and it sits –
on my right cheek, refusing to go away, like the light-bulb that swings …
in the dimly right room, it confuses the dark, so I pretend it isn’t there …
and commence at the start …
took you to school and took you to work and all it really took was for someone to learn …
why it’s there and why it sits on the side of my face – the streak is always there just harder to see …
so I sit on an angle and turn my head to speak – to turn this ‘invisible’ line into a pale streak …
just to show that it hurts, to reach out to someone – for every second this is mine – this is my spine, this is my ‘I’ …
