I killed my mother
with misdirection,
avoiding taboo subjects
by always changing course

With the scotch whiskey fumes
permeating in plastic cups
hidden in every room,
even beneath the cellar stairs

I once stole a Valium
to see how it would feel
to have the senses numbed
so I would not care

But all I ever felt
was a suffocating feeling
of being closed in
by imaginary walls

My peers were dating
going to dances
went a few times
out of tune with the room

So I tried to make friends
but rumors tainted
my reputation
repulsed and repugnant

There are no role models
no one to emulate
finding your own way
completely, utterly alone

Now I'm quite damaged
inwardly cold,
this soul somehow manages
still embracing this mortal coil

Always feeling the end
just one more step
one final push,
and the world is ours

mathiasthom
written 6/19/11