'Tis a Lullaby, Familiarity Breeds Not Against You, But Contempt Does It Persists
If anger had been enough, then I should've been strong
If resentment drove me to peak, then I would have claimed it to immunity
But the weight of it lies, in my darkened eyes, the corners of my lips growing heavy,
My memory, of the good times and the the vivid ones,
They're the negative film slowly fading into the ashes swept by dismay
I cannot go on, mother.
This is too heavy for me to linger,
Pictures and confetti of gold and silver, should've cemented our memories of each other.
Enough.
Enough.
But memories impaired by these weight,
Memories dulled by constant hunger,
Malnourished and bony when held,
The hip bone glares out the marrow.
Time drift like a speed and vertigo,
Too fast, of demand and pressure,
If I looked back,
I may have forgotten,
I may have amnesia.
A single trigger...
Crashes me back this ache again
Of hunger,
Of malnourishment,
And my hip bone pushing out the marrow when held.
Enough.
Enough.
I cannot go on.
May I just close my sight for a while
Flutter my eyelids back
Lucid, distant and cooled,
Not yet cold,
And never speak of this matter again.
My hands are wrung,
My fingers pressed against themselves, restless
Looking, examining, jittery of this uncomfortable tableau
I gathered my breath, and out, they go to space,
And so am I if I walk on my own pace.
I guess, it is what it is.
'Tis a lullaby, it's not your voice
But your hands that kneads my head when I was a kid
Pardon my flaw if I harbor contempt,
But not against you, I pray not,
Enough...
I'm tired.
Should we go on?
Carry on to the next life.
