Boomerang Syndrome

One I wrote when I realized that I was falling in love with the one who was soon to become my Muse...

I recognise that smell...
Like a caved-in well
Like a red hot door knob
It makes your heart throb

It's a blood-thirsty boomerang
Back to steal back to hang
The accursed treasure chest
Leaves you no rest

I stare in front of me with dread
A cage is falling upon my head
Look, it's back again to wreck,
To suck the blood from my neck

Once, twice or thrice
These Three Blind Mice
Space, Love and Freak
Combine their forces to make me weak

Where is the door, where is that door?
The water's rising and I can breathe no more
I'm on my knees, biting the dust
Like a stopped watch left to rust

The Holy drug I hold in contemplation
Cannot grant me any psychedelic illusion
Because lucidity I have to keep in this strife
To measure the depths of this trivial life

I wish things would smoothly rhyme
I know it's just a matter of Time
But Time is the offspring of Space
And Space shows me no grace...

Tim, Autumn 2003