Marge Lewis

Dancing in and out of ambiguous clouds
Big, bright in majestic perfection
Tantalizing with a glimpse of entitled beauty
Peace, overwhelming feeling of calm
...

Tempers flaring, bedlam to behold
Voices rumbling in a black hole
Blood, guts gore the smell of wet pennies
Machine chanting a midnight melody
...

How funny it is that no one sees me,
Invisible to the outside world,
Surviving in my own thoughts alone,
Don't they see my brain is hurting?
...