Monday 3/31/2008 12:54:00 AM

Rigid glances smear color of her kiss. Abstracted. Neglected Rapunzels let down their hair. From towers feeble with love. All stories told too many times. Victims. In billowing gowns that fit too well.

It's easier to be hurt. To be broken. She tells him. Then you know what to wait for. Otherwise we're just meat. Lingering on the bone. Mourning the skin the heat has seized.

I'm better off weak. Like all addicts are. The hook through my cheek hurts, but I'm resigned to it. I can go so far. So far.

Weak doesn't lie to me. Try to tell me I can get better. It's days. Months spent distilling the venom. Into words. Gaps in the poison. Just long enough to say I am dead.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2024. All Rights Reserved.