The Yarn I Am In Poem by Nick Patrick

Half awake I see the future
Past slowly becoming the suture
To mend and make amends
Some guiding light, it depends

On my vascularized essence
So full of holes in all its presence
To speak and have carried shame
Upon my conception with onward blame

To be lost in an pit of confusion
And give my soul an utter contusion
By walking blind in a place of sight
Attempting speech as hard as I might

Tearing off the skin I've been wearing
Screaming in agony at a nameless pairing
Please, wash my organs clean with a cleaver
Destroy the ruthless, insurmountable fever

I lay naked in an eternity of yearning
For this bodily obsession, waiting, concerning
But it will never happen nor has ever been
I'm all bungled up in this yarn I am in