VI: Ginger poetry

sweetest part is that i never left her
even at these towers of doom
these four white walls with Dr Cameron in the middle
she's still here
somewhere round the core and the head
in pictures
in books
letters
thoughts
and phone calls.

And she delivers me kisses from the ceiling

Ginger has the best scent
she always knows when to smile
she has long dark eyelashes
and a big white forehead
where i deposited my fever
and my sad goodbyes

of course, she's shorter than me
she can't see signs that i can
obssessed with cats, Ginger cat
she dyed her hair so many times that her skull now wants to be bald

the magic of the night we met is too corny
appropiated bonfire and crazy monkeys around it
digging the beat of lunatic drums
and she was there, the nicest ape
i didn't know about her niceness yet
but she asked for a light
the week after i started smoking
she asked for a light and asked for a dance
she knew how to dig it
how to twist
how to swing
she taught me everything.

because more than my half was empty,
just full of meaningless 'i love you's
and spit and sperm stains
maybe my home was somewhere else.

it's so strange to think about that night
when i realised where i belonged.
what can you do when you like something?

because that's its real meaning
i liked something
something felt right
behind wrong

the orange knife of distort came afterwards
just a few minutes after the pink flower blossom
Ginger cat had quite a group of ape mates
and they were all celebrating each others existence
and mine was to be praised, tons of pain washed away.

She introduced me quickly,
still all bodies were shaking
feeling the spark of tiny cardboards
that they supplied to my mouth

and i became another frenetic monkey
that clung to Ginger's arms
while her head grazed mine
like a planet and its satellite

everything developed like a flower
or a mushroom
right before our eyes
through months
and family fights
scratching my consciousness

maybe it is about time i leave the family issue behind
i know it's hard now that i have to talk about it all the time
but if feels so nice to be clean
to be aware of life and its importance
that i don't care
my mother could be the worst bitch living in the planet
but she's not me, she's not my brain
and my brain can push her aside, as a foreign object like my father.

it's not that i learnt this some moments ago
it's just that i'm deciding to do it now.

what else is there to add that isn't obvious?
well, the brand newsflash:
Cameron has been mentioning a release
because she secretly fights for me.
And Ginger.