Helpfulness in General

Sizzling stallions
broken points
opened a holy portal
like a boiling pit
I sought it
with my hair
burning away
a much needed haircut
a much necessary makeover
and I cried as usual
things flashed before
me
memories of moments that
I hold dear.
I saw her face, too,
and it hurt. It hurts
as if looking at the sun
so beautiful but
so sacred and so impossible

flowers used to call my name
and so did little dwarfs
made of iron and leaded paint
chips
grounding any thought I had
of making it away from
this place
and this nightmare that this
place is

I've forgotten so much and
I've gained so little to
replace it with
so little to fill up my racing mind
it has nothing to
race to
nothing to race from
so simple
so simple
so simple
so carelessly simple
and absolute in itself
I've forgotten so much and
I hate that. I want to
remember and cherish the
memory.

it's really bright sometimes and
just opening my eyes is hard for
the intense pain that comes
along with it.
It's then that I feel like breaking
things
punching things
reopening the sores
on my fist
so uncontrollable
a wild bull running
rampant
nothing in its path
but the unfortunate
child.

I can't believe I've managed
this much. I feel like I'm behind,
however, and it is depressing
to think
there are so many people
that can say they are younger but
more acheived.
I try not to think about it
and instead dwell on how beautiful
some of them are

We will do anything until something
negative comes of it
and it is then that we stop
but what was the cost of our
actions before we stopped?
who did we injure or break
or kill.

When I look at my hands I am unimpressed
I wonder if other people look at
these hands and lean into their partner
or friend and confide that my hands
aren't very impressive.
Perhaps they are unimpressive, maybe
they look spidery and thin
and starved. I did eat all I could
but
they remained obtrusively unattractive

What in God's name am I trying to prove
by thinking
thinking should be done by our future.
the future should decide where we go
the future should decide how we get there.

I'm in a dilemma about something
I sometimes cannot think of what to say
I mostly cannot think of what to say
I can only look on and hope things totter
In my direction.
It has always been so hard to express myself
I get so frustrated and so embarrassed and
I think of other people's opinions too much.
If I could just sit in a cell with a pencIl and a load of paper
I would be so grateful
I would be so happy
I would feel the tenderness of God's mercy.

Despite the awful road conditions
I have been able to find my way
through the world without too many hairy
mistakes or too many unfortunate run-ins with
fate.
My feet hover mere inches from the road as I speed
my way around and hope to stay in one peace;
in tact and passive like a hindu cow.

I remember old Marge sitting in her
basement on the sofa, knitting needles
embedded an inch into her immense
back-fat.

I tricked a person into thinking I was a kite
and they strung me and flew me and I screamed
with glee
the wind rushing and pulling me higher and higher.
the string tethering me to the ground was so thin,
though and the wind soon pulled me up and away from
the lady in charge of holding me down. I didn't
realize what had happened
until
my body began to swing in every direction. I cried
out and was pulled to the ground by a microburst
so strong my arms broke and flapped uselessly
like paper
and when my legs struck the gravel path they flopped
like melted rubber.

When I first saw the rose it was like an intense
burning in my stomach. it felt weird but it wasn't
unpleasant and as it progressed it was like a
shiver up my spine and through my nerves.
When I was finally over my brief spasm I felt
as if I had been reborn and looking
at the person standing before me was
all I really wanted to do.
They looked back briefly, but
they looked away and my mind raced for
something to say to get their attention
back.

When they left I felt like I had nothing left for
me in the world and that I must surely parish...

I thought about looping over and over
and thought about connections I could make
with the previous statements, but they pretty
much stand by themselves and for themselves.
I love to talk but I think it's bad for me,
so I will stop talking and let someone else
do the talking for me.