Monday, January 29, 2018

anthropomorphic

I talk to the mirror 
I talk to the chair
I argue with people 
Not even there
The teacup and I 
Are quite friendly, at least
The clock and the candle guy
Work for the Beast
I wander the castle 
And sing with the dresser
My pillows, the priest
And the chaise, my confessor 
It's hard to be lonely 
When completely surrounded 
By anthropomorphic objects
Who confound me
The dining set feeds me
These little green pills 
The hat stand repeatedly 
Tells me I'm ill
So I bury my head right 
Far down in a book
And only come up
When the Beast comes to look
They say when I'm "lucid"
I call him my husband 
But he locked me up here 
I've been told by the dustbin 

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