Can I Touch Your Lungs...Can I touch your lungs with my bare handsMore Like This
And search for your blackened heart?
You smoke lies and deceit and December wishes
And Im weary of all your cruel demands.
The man with glasses and coffee in the Park
Writes in a yellow notebook ,
his psycho-novella starring yours truly
Discovering my mental frontier,
Schizophrenia lets him be Louis and Clark.
Ive no desire to adhere to the norm
With set quartets and quatrains and ABBA ABBA,
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Between mother, father, teacher, and cold coffee man
I am squeezed enough to follow form.
Can I touch your lungs with my bare hands
And caress your spine with feather fingers?
Ill let you use and abuse and bruise me
And set loose your wicked plans.