disintegrate
frightened
fixed
torture baked into eyes
that shake like salt
im dried up
tall paper on dust legs
bones that are sticks that are cotton
begging for water
but not water
that thing that is water
for the other body
the l word, the l word
i hate the l word
no one and everyone knows
the feeling you get
when you are unwanted
like a desert walking
like a dried up used thing
dying to be replenished
waiting forever for the sun to die
waiting to be touched
by anyone
who would dare
but the knowledge
that it will never happen
turns me again
from sand to glass
to dust to air
and back again
leaving me to wait
to disintegrate again tomorrow
fixed
torture baked into eyes
that shake like salt
im dried up
tall paper on dust legs
bones that are sticks that are cotton
begging for water
but not water
that thing that is water
for the other body
the l word, the l word
i hate the l word
no one and everyone knows
the feeling you get
when you are unwanted
like a desert walking
like a dried up used thing
dying to be replenished
waiting forever for the sun to die
waiting to be touched
by anyone
who would dare
but the knowledge
that it will never happen
turns me again
from sand to glass
to dust to air
and back again
leaving me to wait
to disintegrate again tomorrow
posted by cainnum at
19.9.06
2 Comments:
boy, are you depressing or what? Maybe you should take a page out of Marge Simpson's book and just smile on the outside and take all your anger, hurt, and disappointment and squish it all down inside, like she advised Lisa. Wow, there really is a Simpson's reference for every occasion!
wow that pain just radiated off the page. now i feel guilty for letting myself be dragged away this morning. however, the poem is beautiful.
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