Monday 6/26/2006 12:02:00 AM

Naked knees. Broken toes. How am I supposed to feel now. Were this world yours. This life your own?

Every cuticle assigned a color. A piece of the vase. Without roses. Or leaves of green. He knew I knew, but not how much. A child with one firefly in her jar trying to see. Watching it die as I wait for the sun.

I could match his indifference so well that I almost believed that was our connection.

My child. Myself. Spilling from my womb. A hemorrhage of trust. Pooling so blue under cover of flesh. And splintered bones.

What I have loved. What love has given me. So many drugs with a rainbow of arbitrary names. Liquid, pill and syrup. Friend, lover, enemy.


The dosage remains the same.

ozymandiaz said...

Better living thru chemicals, hugh? Nothing like adding to the haze...

alcoholic poet said...

well, i like the haze. but it was actually an analogy equating love and such type feelings to those 'bad' drugs. especially dependency and lust.

everything we really want is a drug when you look at it close enough. if it weren't we wouldn't want it so much.

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