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The Feast is Over Too much, too much My mind shuts down I close my eyes and block my ears While my soul curls in a foetal ball Vultures with beaks dripping blood You rip my living flesh from my bones Needy and ruthlessly in your greed You feast amidst my shrieks of pain Deaf to my soundless pleas to stop How much of myself must I then give Before you will all depart To gorge on another hapless fool? Will you never be satisfied Till a dried up husk is all you will leave me of my soul? I am so tired of this all that I ache Your voices jabbering in my brain Jackhammers with a falsetto shriek Demanding... 'I want'... 'I need'... 'Can you please'... All I want is to be left alone To muddle on, to breathe and to survive I am not wise, I am not strong I have no answers for myself I am too tired, I have not even the strength to die Take your problems to your God, whoever he may be He willingly signed up for this job... you gave me no choice, I resent that so. I am just as fucked up as the rest And probably far less sane than you my friends Face your demons by yourself Take a knife to your own rotting souls Cut it honest and cut it deep Gag on the putrid mess you call your life Face yourself and then the choice so simple be... Deal with it and choose to live Or choke on it and quietly die Snip... the cord is cut You're on your own my friends This meagre part of my soul you forgot to ingest It be mine.. I need it for myself Notice is hereby served upon you all My life is mine, I take it back Naomi von Niewoldt October 2002 |
