What are you trying to say?
What do you mean?
You say that,
And I am convinced
That you want to see me falter.
I catch the vile glint in your eyes.
Is it genuine confusion, or is it
Genuine jealousy?
And here, now, the doubt trickles in,
Past the limp hairs on my skin
An intoxicating fume that filters up, up, up
All the way to my brain.
My golden brain!
Which until now thumped with life
The thoughts which had clung to its bloody walls like vines
Now yellow, the colour of intuition offuscated.
It wilts, and shrivels,
intelligible even to its owner.
And in my throat, something juts out.
I want to vomit but choke instead.
I want to roll on the floor and gag until this acid thing frees itself.
I am in pain, lashed by shame.
But you are waiting.
I need to make sense!
Sense, sense, quickly!
The look in your eyes is unmoving. There is certainty in your muteness.
A certainty that I was born deprived of.
In your angry silence, I am lost.