Don't Blow It

I am Cancer, made to feel every pain, creak and shrill
that passes through my heart or yours, it lays on my tongue,
like a pill hard to swallow, bitter followed by sublime
I cannot fathom anything less than the waves that crash
upon my mind they come creamy and fevered, aligned
to the stars, currents, tides, a forward and reversing motion
and I sometimes am the ocean, sometimes the buoy.

I could draw a line upon the sand, corridor off where I stand
pretend I do not hear the voices which bring every emotional hand
I’m played like a well-known tune, oiled, spoiled, born in June
hearts pump upon my sleeve, hot and boiling with passion leaked
in my ear, upon my door, told as if there were no more
people who can understand are rarer and rarer in this pop stand.