TRACES Spring 2013 | Seite 7

Kindness personified

If kindness was personified,

beneath a film of a second chance.

I'd worry, and fear till my heart drew tied,

and sip whiskey so my tongue would dance.

Kindness personified?

I'd be as an alcoholic...

Who'd grown tolerant to a point,

and trusted strength would stick--

Then maidens betray their masters!

As I'd grow weak at a sip.

Worn out and jaded,

Not even from a kiss.

Speak from thy lips,

Never use the tongue more than to breathe.

I'd grown demure and quiet.

It's a sin, as my silence would deceive.

Through tears I'd scream I'm sorry,

Though tears suffocate me.

As you'd meekly ask,

Meekly? Nothing I would see...

As a fabricated alcoholic would treasure his glass,

You treasured the fact that we wouldn't last.

He'd grown tolerant to poisoning himself...

I've grown envious of a disease...

Insanity loves me...though my heart cannot be put to ease.