everything is loud and bright. a fatality of words. this illness that is life. screams in pencil. streaks of panic scratching at the stones in her lap. the truth manifests. in her soiled skirt. and her bruised thighs. the spectacle of choice.
fetid docents manage the masterpiece of touch.
her voice. an hysteria of when. paper bridges resenting the rain.
the distances they span. all whispers and chokes. drowning in the absurd ironies that make life our own.
dying slowly in the soft pillows addiction provides. dissolving easily. in the acid storm hope insists.
fractions. adventure. myth. basting in the spoils of time's arrogance. obvious wounds. and the ghosts that can't be seen by them.
braids. pony tails. knots. an apocalypse of vanity. all partial lies and gutted fish.
the end of the world comes in slivers. the edge of the paper shaking its fist. distant mountains try on their wigs. as if we can decide. or even begin to measure the depths.
Wednesday
2/19/2014 01:06:00 AM
Sad Labels:
addiction
,
loneliness
,
ugly
| Life Poems |