Room with a view

  

My wandering soul, like a fearful,

 diligent ghost, slept in my room

 somewhere yet it seemed in

 the restrained chorus of nightmares

 and stray rustles,

 tiny threats,

 the yellow moon flickered silvery.

In the next room my father

 and mother snored loudly.

 Their nervous, otherworldly

 unconsciousness wandered

 in and out of their souls.

 Above my head swam the jackal

 heads of my shame, grinning in death.

 Fluttering and dancing

 in pitch-dark depths.

Their grinning sniggering

 made me urinate, my sweat stumbled

 between the shutter-traps of my forehead.

 And in the astonishing heartbeats

 I experienced, there was an unexpected turn.

 In opening doorways,

 my mother's worried angelic

 gaze comforted, watched.

I'm a boy accustomed to another

 state of repose, vomited from my aching,

 lost soul the childish curses 

of my childish soul until I succeeded

 in cursing this muddled, undeserving world.

 With an aching heart set for a heart attack,

 drenched in sweat and smelling of urine,

 I wept and moaned till dawn.

All I had was a creaking, crunching

 bed and a few teddy bears by my side.

 I should have crossed the fused lines

 that the Moiras might have seen long ago. 

I seemed to have understood this long ago.

 Others were always the endings

 of the complex mind. 

Other is the wishing of the soul-mother,

 the sweetheart.

 I have a dread encoded in me,

 like a helpless homesickness

 before an uncertain journey.

 It's a pity that I couldn't find

 a truer connection, so many

 I gave up voluntarily

 - though I searched for it diligently.

 I must be sinking into

 some spurious existence!