My reasons for admission?
Shall I tell you?
Do you really need to know?
For years I’ve stayed tight-lipped.
But my ego has become a prosthesis,
that no longer fits;
that I no longer wish to wear.
I have become an inconstant texture –
The clang of discord, congesting my brain.
I’ve tried to think in reverse.
Gunshot wounds, fighting the fire.
Too much seduction and disappointment,
have led to these dissolute habits.
This yummy life, a pipe dream.
No longer solvent.
Is it self abuse?
To listen to this incessant gurgling.
Or am I required, like the olive tree,
To be patient for the fruit.
So reasons for admission?