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You sit on me when you're hungry,
I can't breathe, falling into the abyss.
A star blanket keeps me warm.
Slipping back into the womb,
Listening for a sing-song dream.
I can't be right about anything,
If I'm wrong about love.

I can turn myself inside out,
You can't wound me when I'm not there.
I can't hear you behind a yard thick wall,
Where a star blanket keeps me warm.
Rainbow dreams and angel wings
Are waiting for me there.

I can barely carry the weight of my soul,
Yet you want me to carry your cross.
If the wages of sin is death,
then pay me now,
he said.
Then they wrapped him in a shroud.

I can breathe now.

Satisfy yourself then, or be hungry.
Feed on my spirit, devour my soul.
Vacant stores and barren vistas have come
With the wolf that calls, not for me
But for you.
For I have gone to return nevermore.

Silent cries are never heard
by those that refuse to hear
the echoes
in the sound
Above
the din
of their own madness.

Lifeless in life. Loveless in life. Light without light.
Chosen, yet never found;
Called, yet never to sing.
Wrap us all in blankets,
and live as you will.
Alone, as I am, with my wounds.

Learn more about this author, Francis Jock.
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