Malady of an Insomniac

Lashing rain from my balcony view,
Cheap acidic, vitriol wine my company,
I look down, across, the quiet,

Hormones slighting with astringent tastes like dark balsamic,
Lights flicker, change to cold,

Insomniac, Mania, a memory of the past night
A Nightmare realised, thoughts of harm to elder beings,
Erect pain awakens,
Sexual frustration malady,

A hatred staring back, astringent like sour urea,
Sweat laden body drags in my chair,
Hoping for Theravada mornings,
A mindful breath,

To not cope of our panic, rely on chemical tranquility
To feel never again the spiders of doubt sinking their fangs
Still the Rain pours,

As I sit, plaid shirt my only warmth,
A second’s silence of yester eve,
To take insult, the cause of the distant Slumdog,

A thousand kilometers or more,
Still I know its my fault,
I look, I apologise, my guilt killing me each second,
The self-hatred I share with my reflection,
A reflection that is my Schizoid friend and foe,

Forward night, 2am still seems like forever,
Where does my mind go?
Where has your mind been?
Familial blame our only thought,

I still hate (me), I hit you, I battle me,
The bruises I’m still feeling from my knuckles bare,
The punches I rained down,
A fracture of my mind and skull,

In where we look, the malady is still there, Ambivalent…

Can you explain?

Ian V. Seymour ©2012

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