I fear that I think
To never have
You know what Im thinking
For if the code has translation
It is…
Well,
No longer encoded.
What are codes used for?
To hide messages from prying eyes,
To have hidden conversations
Of truth could let one die
I once had a thought,
That while I was on stage
The things that I was thinking,
Could cry to my dismay,
“When I sit upon your tongue,
I slit my belly open.
My juice drips down your throat,
And i cannot close the wound
Before you taste iron of heavy
Blood and breath.”
Once I had a thought,
Before I pulled the curtain,
Of my speaking being jumbled,
Of my speaking needing certain
On a folding chair,
In front of a crowd
I wept behind my eyes
As the biggest observer of all,
Unable to intervene
With the suicide of my thoughts
Not a word escaped the throat
So I hummed a fruitless melody
In the heath of chairs before me,
I searched for correspondence
To never discover it
When I was next a performer,
I learned a little trick
To encode my thoughts as nonsense,
As my tongue had a taste for lies
And my mind had a yearn for the truth
And my words would come out blended
As a coping to get through,
…
It made a code.
And I’ll work to have it untangled
But who knows,
Maybe the truth
In my words are forever mangled