Labotomy

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CAN YOU HEAR YOURSELF?

Mine field,
Misery.
My feet always break
Your tiptoe trance
Pulling on a suddenly interested focus.
Wounds of origin
Carelessly bound
And treated symptomatically.
Guilt straps me in
Presses me to my seat
Soon to break
100 mph.
Resistance,
I feel it
But unnoticed
It physics wasted
On the preoccupied.
Transfigured from seat to saddle
And bobbing steals repetition's seed
Replacing typical repetition
Now motions are going through you.
Still no response.
"Come alive Frankenstein!!!
No, you're much worse."
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