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The TV news says I’m a killer, but I don’t remember…
I yearn for my youth, those early memories I still retain
Snowy nights with my parents on December trains
Before old age and the cracks in my brain
Celebrating Christmas and New Year’s Eve
Before the disease
Now I sit on the edge of this rotten motel mattress
The TV says I’m a killer, and maybe they’re right
Since I discover a body
In the bloody bed with me tonight
Who is it? — it can’t be said
Since the body has no arms, no legs, no head
The news declares me a public enemy
A surveillance photo—I look gray and tired
Images of victims that don’t jog my memory
My recollections have all expired
The TV claims that I’m wanted and dangerous—
I look at my weak, drooping flesh and think—they can’t be serious
Who can I trust when I don’t know myself?
I don’t know how to feel
Where do I turn when nothing looks familiar?
Were those December trains even real?
All I know is I’m in this motel room and it’s dark and—
Wait, hold on, Jesus Christ, where did this body come from?!
I sit on the edge of the bed
Panic and confusion in my head
What bothers me most
Isn’t the torso under the covers
What bothers me most
Is my craving for another
The TV news says I’m a killer, but I don’t remember…
Original Artwork by Steve Ramer, check out his site @ Steve Ramer (famousbaseballplayers.net)
Additional Artwork generated with Nightcafe
What bothers me most/isn't the torso under the covers... oh goodness, this is one dark poem! Nice one!