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.

Regardless.

The dosage remains the same.

2 comments:
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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