A lie in Technocolor: A POEM

I stood at the doorway, my eyes squinting to see the light. There was mother, standing there, a vision of light, working in the kitchen. She was making bread, a pretty loaf.

I remember her singing, as she kneaded the bread, I was on my typewriter, trying to explain myself a broken heart love.

I wish Mother was here, to explain to me, this hopeless fear.

Jesus was there, trying to explain to me, that worth, that life, if it was good to be me.

Marilyn was singing, a happy song, as I tried to erase her memory, a harmful dream, if ever was told such things.

The light came on, as I pulled the chain, Jesus was this worth writing in my journal?

Dreams.

Weird images, I felt, before breaking up.

Here, I could see, was the line drawn between you and me.

I escaped from that misery, a lust upon my lips, before we ran away, from each other.