How you have come

to take the borrowed rooms

of childhood from me,

to extract all color from dreams

with a crude syringe.

 

Even my wild horses

are tethered by cold reasoning.

You have come

to make me forget

to love the unseen,

to turn the days into numbers

and make the night obscene.

 

You have dragged me

into a raw world,

fractured and unclean.