New Year’s Day IS my resolution,
Shade and synapse revolution,
Flying in the face of curse, or catastrophe.
Mocking my spirit tormentors
Or my mangled neural receptors
-whichever it may be.
Making gray of colors
While my vision smolders
In greenblue flames of unreality.
Hearken. Run to, run from.
Live forever lonesome
Fulfilling the one promise I ever made to me.
To hurt, and ever fear,
I resolve to have survived yet…another…year…
And will through a deranged eternity.

milliecat@msn.com