I have visions
Of things that will never happen.
The other day
A big, silvery knife
was pushed to my throat
Through my front neck
By a man I can’t see
Here, in my home.
I saw the blood gushing
And I didn’t care.
I know it’s not real
But why is it there?
I don’t have paranoia
I’m not afraid of death and pain,
But I’d rather
Have visions
Of things that will never happen,
Like
Me winning a triathlon,
Wearing a ridiculous suit, while
Waving to the crowd,
Triumphant sweat spritzing off me.

Leave a Reply