peek inside my twisted mind,
with odds and ends,
and a tire swing.
all walls and corners and empty space.
peek inside my twisted mind,
past
the sunken battleships
and broken bottles.
past ashes and hangnails,
lined paper and torn sails,
past the trails of words we said,
and have since forgotten,
of anger and passion
and sinful desire
peek inside my twisted mind,
to piece together a shattered past
of murmured secrets,
and sheltered pleasures.
ignore the individual,
the instances and each scrap,
each odd and end and pile of shit
each bookend, and poem, each pencil shaving
and ripped shirt,
instead look at
the wholly fucked up mass,
and find a pattern to appease
and please
and put at ease
both you and me
and anyone else who may desire to
peek inside
my twisted mind.
Gabrielle Sherman, USA
[ Smiles ] Wonderful poetry!