Sunday 10/31/2010 01:08:00 AM

in an alternate universe he loved me just as much as i loved him. but not in this one. in another still, i didn't love him at all and his heart was the one that got broken.

in some world out there my time machine works. and i go back and forth. manipulating circumstance to my whims. an infantile demigod. concerned only with the distance between now and if. the years like hookers on short leashes. my machine the drug that spreads their gnarled legs.

in the past i was a girl. sharp and red with momentous changes. that never ceased. i was a girl. the outline of a child stretched across the body of a woman.

now. i am a child still. focused on the cold windows and the barren sheets. deafened by the voracious stutter of time machines. mouthing the words. as i drown in the dogma of skin.

in the future i am a liar.

telling stories about. the child still searching for a crack in the glass.

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