I need you to hold me, but my poems come running from behind. The chaos, the confusion and they crash into my backbone. I break into pieces. You draw art out of them and sell it to those who never bargain You give me whole. I found myself half. I cut the table into two halves, there lies my body, bleeding. A butcher opens the door, thinking it's his day to eat me full. I pray for powercut the lights switches off I become my shadow. You came running to me, I give you my hand. You create darkness out of the chaos and confusion, I sleep putting them under my pillow. If only I knew what this is.
