Chris Dubois

Confused Trauma

The fear of the hazy.
Not knowing what exactly what to think or fear.
Glazed despair like gelatin in my veins, thick and vile.

I loved her all my life.
Never really thinking about it at all.
Taken for granted until the pending end.

I am incapable of true comprehension, the truth yet to

strike
me.

Always been there,
except for (looking back now)
the really meaningless trifles of times,
the cookies flowing like luscious love covered
with white confectionary love like purity and sweet
like my innocence.

Both the same.

Grenma, with a rolling and tumbling drdrdr sound
and a bit of "eh-ma" built in
which makes it exclusively our greek,
confident but weak.

I hope today doesn't finish what I have never really considered.
What a disguised and elusive blessing.

Confusion and despair

coupled with
confusion and despair.
Mixed, beaten to a pulp:
confusion and despair.

Maniacally crazy persistent pestering of my head,

my stupid deafdumbblind heart.