Burn While Eaten Alive

You know it is only going

to get worse.  Sometimes, I wish


the Sanatoriums were still functional,

instead abandoned and decaying.  Drug


me up and set me in a chair with wheels,

in front of a window looking out at gardens


and at tree lines. I want to sit there in my silent

weeping life to watch it all burn over and over


again. Each time the flames burn higher

engulfing more and more until nothing


recognizable is left.  When I take the time to walk

into the bathroom, my shaking hands grasp


the white porcelain, so I can look plainly

in the dirty looking glass.  My reflection


is distorted.  My own eyes reflect emptiness

back at me.  The world has tapped me like a maple


having already been infested by Japanese invasive

beetles.  There might be a drop of maple left


somewhere in my veins, but hell if I know

where it is.  In time, the beetles always kill the tree.


1 Comment

  1. Perhaps my friend if the tap is removed…new growth will initiate soon after the end of the sugaring season…the hole will cover with callus tissue and the sweetness will return…random thoughts.

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