My Gut

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My Gut 

     causes me grief.

Crying in the corner, a child in silence, 

who cannot remain silent.

And my father moves to another room

But like Bluebeard,

My father will recognize blood on the key

Discover my wandering footsteps

And know I’ve disobeyed

I think of anything immediate.

What will pacify the pain?

 

    The pantry door is easy to open and in my range.

No footsteps.

Just a secret of my own.

A gateway and a release from suffering.

 

This affair is addiction 

This affair is essential

Suddenly I want to be a child again.

10 feet deep and thinking there’s no way out.

The door is an ocean to an eternal city;

All of mankind knows about it:

That suffering births pleasure

Not the other way around.