a poem by Douglas Wadsworth
Does it confuse you? The way I sit,
or the way I like to describe things as if I’m in control?
Do I annoy you when I avoid your texts?
I hope I do. That cruel mind of mine churns when I’m notified again.
I’m dull. You can’t know the things I’ve written about you.
If you’re reading this: hello, you mentalist, how have you found me?
It’s so brutal, the fact I'm unhappy, but look, I’m so happy when you’re gone.
Keep away foul beast, I am armed.
Relax, you’re on TV.
Does it scare you that I’m watching?
How the tables have turned, spun round, see me dropping.
I'm sinking. No, I AM SINKING.
Don’t drink the water, it's just your imagination
and it doesn’t want you.
How scared are you, dear?
Terrified or content, it doesn’t really matter now.
Smile. No really, SMILE, it’s time to pretend that you are okay.
Never let me see your fear always let me know I’m wrong.
I’m not punishing you for love,
I know it is not real. Do you think that could change?
I don’t.
So, smile, because the world is watching.
Relax, you’re on TV.