Wednesday, March 19, 2008

open

I tried saltwater rinsing, but your scent still
rims my nostrils like
the ghost of moments too blue to be
winnowed out of my being,
the sweet of your fanciful presence too
deep to be counteracted.
Caught a cold trying to nurse scraps of my sanity
zapping it altogether in the process.
Tried scraping impossibilities off my hopeful dreams
and like my fervent childhood attempts to scour
the big black birthmark from my right leg,
it left me exhausted and heavy
with a sense of defeat
and dull, damp lines
mocking poetry.

This disease gives me a reason to
press against itself, something to push for
And by this fall i will have forgotten how
your words spelt spring,
my fingers will be conditioned to reach for
backspace in case i still type your name
right in the dark.

...And when i have won my soul back from
your chance captivity
in a gamble with fate, i'll throw it at the whore's feet
the better to track it's impending treads; for
the exactness of instinct alone
triggers poisonguilt
.




-------
a) i hate the word sweeetness
b) i need to stop sucking so bad
c) this is a lie.

5 comments:

Saturnalia's Offspring said...

And by this fall i will have forgotten how
your words spelt spring,
my fingers will be conditioned to reach for
backspace in case i still type your name
right in the dark.

Strangely effective.

What brought that on?

Lucid Darkness said...

This is a very well expressed piece of writing. Close to your heart, like most of yours...

I suppose keeping yourself open with your written words is one of the few ways to stay sane and not explode. It sucks to be in a creative low.

I loved these lines:
"And by this fall i will have forgotten how
your words spelt spring"

d SINNER!!! said...

beautiful imagery...

Sayan said...

You say it well.

Darkling said...

ermm...sometimes sweetness can be diabetic and i hate those times~~~!!