I forgot that I'm not the only oneWho's trying to win your wild precious heart.I forgot that I'm not the only oneWhose heart's being pricked by a thousand darts.
I thought I wouldn't get hurtI thought I'd never shed a tearI thought it was a perfect maskTo pretend to know no fear.That smile, I've worn as a maskThat smile, that I can't eraseThat smile, that seems so realIs just a perfect facade.In one moment it all came backIn one moment it swept me off my feetIn one moment you broke me apartBy you're insensitive words and speech.With those, emotions flooded meWith those, I'm again writing a poemWith those, I just want to stay hereHere in the corner where I'm alone.
I try to surpress what I think is vile:A simple act; my heart beats and it skips.By standing by the sides, watching you smile,Always, it brings a curve up to my lips.
Take a hold nowOn the silver handles here,Six silver handles,One for each of his old pals.Take holdAnd lift him down the stairs.Put him on the rollersOver the floor of the hearse.Take him on the last haul,To the cold straight house.The level even house,To the last house of all.The dead say nothingAnd the dead know muchAnd the dead hold under their tonguesA locked-up story.
I am not the black cat.There were four of us;my grandmother,a black cat,a myth,and I.My grandmother oftentold us a myth.When you are ill, she said,if a black catcomes and sits on your bedit means that youwill die soon.I was only six,seriously ill.Our black cat
He wakes, who never thought to wake again,Who held the end was Death. He opens eyesSlowly, to one long livid oozing plainClosed down by the strange eyeless heavens. He lies;And waits; and once in timeless sick surmiseThrough the dead air heaves up an unknown hand,Like a dry branch. No life is in that land,Himself not lives, but is a thing that cries;An unmeaning point upon the mud; a speckOf moveless horror; an Immortal OneCleansed of the world, sentient and dead; a flyFast-stuck in grey sweat on a corpse's neck.I thought when love for you died, I should die.It's dead. Alone, most strangely, I live on.