Friday 1/11/2008 12:27:00 AM

My words don't mean anything. Waking up without them. Falling asleep to their dying. These tabloids of skin tell so many lies. It's impossible not to read them.

Jiffy pop hearts expand until the cracks are all they have to covet. Wrinkled aluminum dances against the heat. Subtle drugs pretend to know us un all the ways known else ever has.

Touch lies so well that I almost believe it.

When it says I can feel them.

Floods Cereberal. Motion Flaunts Pixels of Skin In Broken Libidioes. Little fibs make us better.

Little women bleed out their gods in missing children. Words on their wrists sharper since they've stopped try ing to prove the world doesn't end where they do.

I once was lost, but now, I'm just trying not to be found. Wet maps to a buried treasure some might call not looking for it.

It tears away. With a purposeful sound. Almost as if we'd ever been connected.

1 comments:
writerwoman said...

I like the line:

Touch lies so well that I almost believe them.


That resonates.



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