generation Hell

chaos with his arms outstretched
like a sex starved Jesus, calls me
and I blonde and foolish sprint right in
the arms slam in and coil me with danger


the invisible ropes weigh heavily on my frame
as I churn out lines from my conveyor belt head
the only sanity keeping me from a tree or pill bottle
I feel squashed blackcurrants
scrambling for space
in my wet brain

all down to you and your angelic charm,
cornering me unarmed

thanks for making living with myself
totally unbearable