Put me on
throw me off

Come down here
let you give me what you want to hear

I'm a puppet.
You are in.
Society's taken me for all I could have been.

Like a ventriloquist,
you gave me words.
I obliged,
the good puppet should

We played masterfully
you and I

it was art
the way I've died

It's a fine game
without the dice.
but always the same
...every time.

I grow weary.
this reigns my life
I can't go on with you inside

The hand of control,
runs through my blood,
up my ass,
exhaled through my lungs.

Your impressions,
precede my directions,
and I beg for life
in this jugular connection

somehow the crux of these intentions line the boundaries of your discretion in me

I want to be a real boy.

With your fingers along my spine,
I concede.
my choices denied,
dictated
deceased.

You bend my mind.
your crime, my time.
You command my creed and my eyes and my lines.

[Even these cherished words,
have been conceivably contrived by the likes of you]

Your nails are in my heart
and they push-up prompt me to start this solliquy

In the crevesce of your grip
my captured voice pours out thick mellodies.

If I lost this hand
I'd be unable to stand,

so i'd fly away
and never look back

08/27/2002

Posted on 08/27/2002
Copyright © 2024 Tim J Bono