Will you let me go?

Do you flicker at the thought
     and does a shiver climb your column?

The irk before you collapse,
     the endless consummation of beliefs,
and the long list of tales
     that tremble wet on your lip. 

Fear for tomorrow--
     Loathing in a bath of dirty regrets. 

Thoughts that flood and ebb,
     twisting like a rogue burst
     and clears a plain as a wildfire. 

It finally all comes up
     and flows down a pipe. 

I gotta stop getting bad marks. . . I gotta stop. Will you let me go? Will you let me go?
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