Wallow in Division
Margaret Middlebrooks final draft
You died before I spoke my first words,
Dead to the eyes of the living before I was forced into the world,
Ian you should mean absolutely nothing to me,
You mean everything.
I shouldn’t want to touch your face and look into those eyes.
The eyes of isolation.
So blue;
So clear.
I shouldn’t want to be near your voice,
The voice that carries souls of lost children,
To the divisions of their own personal hells,
Then leave us there to rot for awhile.
I’m waiting for the day you can come and take me away.
I’ve been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand.
Because it makes me feel the pleasures of a normal man.
Those words, your words, fill my trembling body.
Physicality isn’t needed for you now.
Just tossed away your flesh and bone,
Like a phoenix rising from ash.
Now you are the stars.
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