I can see the point best

When I can’t see the point.
Leaves of Grass covered in dew,
my heart covered in glass,
my liver coated in vodka,
my kidneys sick with psych meds.
My eyes clouded and confused
my intestines bloated with fear.
My my my.

Life no more bird worms.

These Leaves of Grass can
no longer protect me.
Could they ever, or did I
protect myself, armed and armored
with the memory of Carol Ann?

What I mean to say
is my body is prepared.
Maybe I can be safe.
I mean to say
Only Poetry Can Save Me.

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