‘mooding’ Poem by C.F Francis

Throughout my life, it was the
Most the High who is to be blame
For the mixture of colours.
He penetrates me with gasses
Of different neon’s that matches
Every situation I can find myself in.
Whenever I’m puffed up, a different
Scently colour leaks out through
Every pours of my body.

‘Make me numb, make me numb! ’
I would scream.
But instead He gave me a
Spongy vessel, with huge holes that absorb these
Coloury gasses.
I was never numb, Kalt or freert
My heart was not as rock-
Mind as emptied Space; it
Was emptied with loud voices of different gassied
Tongues. Voices from all kind of coloury mood.
Soft and broken he made me
which grounds my eyes to leak and my heart
Faster than its normal pace.
‘Make me numb, make me numb’
I repeated.
But instead He makes me weak