I sleep inside my boneless hide.
I fake what I have felt.
My mouth is Jekyll, my mind is Hyde.
I jump from pelt to pelt.
I never gave it
chance to grow.
I cut with words misused.
The syllables have all been thrown,
The meanings all abused.
I lie to lie. A hide to hide
A place I called myself,
But if one's to place as if to lie
Then where might be one's self?
If you carry the carriage,
Or something or other,
Then are you the carriage, too?
For marriage is merry until they both bury
The barraged, tired truth:
A merry marriage: A mirage?
All I know is that I don't know anything for certain.
All I know is that I have yet to take away much
And still be able to smile