Mr. Nobody

One of one of maybe something......

They tell you what to do—no use;

they’re happy too.

When demons settle, cut em loose

the blisters fester after noon.

You pick at scabs until they bleed;

the bumps will swell and throb with ease.

Not half as proper as it seems—

another day you don’t believe.

A perfect partner for disease,

so take it gently, as you please.

Another chest that strains to breathe,

a brutal cough that won’t release.

And all they knew were two of me

and fractured forms of us as three.

They say that death is tried and true—

call me red, I’m just blue.

A baby boy, a simple toy,

ran out of gas—so sick is joy?

Rehersal laugh, the thinnest thread,

a dream that flickers, barely met.

Holes are deep, my soul to keep.

And if I die while trying to sleep,

the perfect gift I’ll ever meet—

mercy pledged, a step too steep.

Hopeful now, and forever me.