Hand Turned To The Sky

I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding
I'm feeling, I'm feeling
I'm tossing, I'm turning
My stomach is churning
My face won't present it
I'm sitting, I'm writing
I'm feeling, I'm knowing
My eyeballs are dry and
I'm blinking and breathing
My mouth tastes like chalk
And my hair is all falling
In front of my face
My eyes aren't working
I'm floating, I'm jumping
I'm spitting, I'm running
I haven't left my seat
But I haven't lied yet
My scalp is crying
My ears are ringing
But no one will know it
If my face won't present it
And through the slit in the window
The world is presented
On a concrete platter
Partially hidden, as worlds often are
But the truth is still out there
Waiting to check to see if you're still looking
To see if your seeking
As hide and seek goes
I'm losing, I'm losing
The truth always knows
The truth always goes
Away- but comes back
For round two, and three and four
So long as the pen never leaves the paper
I'm fucking, I'm screwing
I'm using crude words
To break out of a shell
A mold- Imposed
Alllllllll the world knows it
They come out at night
When no one is looking
And judging and staring
Or so they think and
Hope and pray
But the truth (that we've found)
Is simple and clear
We are crude
And I count
The number of men,
and women,
I've fucked
Tick them off
Little checks in a list
To-do list indeed
To-done
To-day
It makes me laugh
And I pretend not to care
Slut! Whore! Frank. Honest.
Synonymous?
For me
They are
I am
Dispossessed.
Do I belong?
Can I belong?
Will I ever belong?
I pretend not to care
But I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding
I'm feeling, I'm trying
I'm crying
I'm dying.