1. On Days Like These

There are a million lives I want to live

In shapeless, colourless dreams

That dance on the edge of my mind,

Tantalizing, taunting, tormenting.

I try to grasp, I clutch at ghosts

Of victories past and losses foretold,

I try to tell them, how the sparkles fell off

That my shiny new dress is now dirty and torn.

Which way do I go? In the rain-soaked bed of weeds

My wheels are rotting

With my branches full of dried-up flowers,

I stand forgotten.

On days like these I cannot stand

the thought of all this Potential,

--so much of it I could choke--

Snaking round my throat,

My necklace of rope, my prisoners' chains;

My hangman's noose, my strait jacket collar.

The gunpowder to my grenade of a brain.

Oh yes, on days like these, my head feels like an explosive,

Timed to go off on the right command.

Just waiting to shatter and splatter

my remains all around me--

vehemently, vengefully, violently--

Like a pumpkin thrown from a third-floor window;

And on the way out,

If I stain my mother's best clothes,

I'm sorry in advance.

SNEHACANTSHUTUP