I AM STILL TALKING

I am still talking;
Today,
she came to visit me.
Wearing her white chiffon dress, and a hat.
Today she was out of character, in that it
feels like autumn.
I noticed she was holding
close to her chest a perfectly sharp object.

She invited me to tea,
of course there was no sweetener on the table.
Just the pale blue dishes, with perfect red and blue flowers.
The table cloth was white, and starched with cloth napkins in CRANBERRY.
White gardenias in a little dish with water.
They smelled so fresh, it made me
think of a beautiful autumn day,
in a cool place.
Wind blowing just soft enough
for me to smell them.

She only arrived because I
invited her.
I thought her up.

I know her all to well,
she came to me; once,
in what I thought
was a dream.

But when I opened my eyes, the room was cloudy and bright,
and the
police stood next to me.
This  is no dream.
Its against the law they said.
I agreed.
Only because I was too foggy to
say anything else.
Its against the law.
I couldn't speak, I was still in a stupor.

Confusion,
A Blur,
Woman standing over me,
elderly, SCREAMING....
So loud not audible.
I must have died, and this is hell....
Screaming, is it day time or  night.
There are no windows.
Just the pale walls of my insanity.
I don't understand,
Someone
are you awake?
You have to get up.
Confused, who and what are you....
the lights or off, and the curtain is pulled.
You have to get up.
You have to talk .
Throat sore, horse....
Can I make sound come out.
Words won't come.
I want some water.

Sitting in a circle of porceline
dolls in wooden chairs.
Their heads are broken in various places.
One has a hole in the top of her head.
Like someone gave her a crainyectomy,
One has her ear piece broken out.
One doll with blank eyes,
has a chip above her lip.
One is just a head she has no body.
dolls in all colors,
porcelain,
half dressed,
one has a shoe missing,
dirty hair,
dragged through the dirt, clothing dirty,
red heart shaped lips,
vacant eyes.
Look that one has an eye missing.
Its just a hole.
Soft body's when you turn them
they make a sound.
If I cut all their hair off will they
still say "Momma" when you turn them.
Will they still be porcelain baby dolls.
Not one of them is salvageable.
I didn't want them anyway.
I hate dolls.
They use to give me clowns,
collect them,
put the all around me.
They are pained,
faces white,
lots of color.
You know each clown has
a distinct face paint, and nobody else can use it.
I don't know who they are underneith that color.
The smile is painted on,
like jack in the box.
They scare the hell out of me....
Don't give me that.

My touch is like a ghost,
nobody feels me,
I am going through the motions.
If you feel me you better speak up now
or forever hold your piece.
Laughing inside deep billows.
The wind is blowing and there are no sails.
The boat will not move.
I am translucent, you see right through me.
I am no longer solid....

When she comes to visit me,
I think I will go with her.
If it makes me feel.
Something...
If she is willing to take me with her someplace.
maybe to India, Bali, or Brazil.
I can watch the beautiful people,
who know how to feel....
If she can value me, and not make me
feel the nothingness.

I think you will notice,
I don't think anyone will.
The world,
my world has gone silent.
This occurred a long time ago.

Guess she was really a dream, and my mind went on
a fantastic trip....
I am still talking.....
I really don't like the circus.