winking down the ivory clown
it's looking back at me
the horror it brings
the memories, it stings
can't shake it off, can't hold it down
no gold
no silver medals, still in paralysis
crisis, a mental expiration
my bed's a think tank, safe for me
to think in dreary fantasy
and imagine every story told
from what went wrong to what's to come
fair lady pushes off the stage
explosions in a ferrous rage
the junk blondes ruin all the fun
desuiting majors, one by one
still I worry, to stop I try
but I obsess, so still I cry
and wash away my joy
forever through the void
the black heart inside me waits to burst
an imminent explosion, imploding first
where true affection hides behind the wooden ropes
next to the stares and the absent gropes
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