A Vicious Vacuum

They take turns to open their windows sometime or the other
A maroon bird keeps flying out of sight and the moment I look up, I see the spinning fan
Fly bird, blades are wings,
Dreams lie and tell truths I refuse to believe in.

It’s not like I am talking about something new or original,
My naivety keeps me alive in the glowering world;
They promise beauty and a meaning all the time
For they believe I am a child wrapped in an old, stained, protective membrane.
Tie a scarlet ribbon around me then.

The lamp lights the way while shadows follow,
Revealing all that they prefer to hide.
Remember the cat which kept trying to bite its own tail?

It is mostly an eye I have never seen
Visiting me in my candied sleep;
I am one person, so I write similar things
And I wish not to hide in ciphers
Those
Which when stark and vacant, overflow.

They’ll ask me to be what I’m not.
All the while I think I see you
Do you see me?
Do you see me?

I’ll keep the cold out and the warmth in
Sometimes I'll mix them up and drown in lukewarm lunacy
To be back again and carry on
With the incessant shrill verses that apparently sting or stay unnoticed.

A war poet sat back and immortalized ugliness through his ornamental concepts
And I looked out of the window to see a pair of doves staring back at me.
I moved in circles throughout the day
Now, I am so dizzy, I can fall off the chair any moment, into my chasm.