more creative writing/poem 3
your memory pierces me through the throat like some godsent arrow piercing me on my better days. one moment you're crimson, you're neon and you're changing right before me. how do i know which way to take? how do i decipher whether to trust what you say?
before i remember i forget and my movements repeat themselves. motion memory, triggered in the fingers. brought on by touch.
i didn't know where to begin and i didn't know when to end. i cried for your safety, although it was all hands-off to me. i took my hands off; i put them away. when my eyes never met yours you laughed. your mouth was a monument, named by ancient cultures. wasted. that's right- laidbare and lit for fire. everything's so dry when it hasn't rained for days. when the only precipitation the ground will ever get is brought on by your tears.
i believed you so many times. i came to wait for you in the sanctity of the frightened night. my chest rose and fell with every step but you never saw the courage building up inside of me. such futile bravery! it all fell down; a nuclear bomb wouldn't do me better (to the soul). i wish you'd hit me in the face and smack the teeth loose and cause the blood rushing. i need that invigoration to the veins. now i have nothing. your unhappiness, counted. there is a vacancy; i judge a general absence. if the sun were to burn out and i was the only human left alive, walking about town in my torn canvas shoes, admiring the wrecks of shopping malls and unused libraries.
it's as i weren't born to begin with.
it's as if i lost the ability to read. the developed language means nothing to me.
and all i can smell are the putrid smells. a corpse rotting somewhere inside a wall.
i believed you so many times. all you fed me, out of boredom or out of spite, were the tenderest of lies. served with the sweetest of smiles.
i ate myself full.
if you ever pierced me, you were to sure to leave a hole where was there was none. when two are divided and barely, there's left one.
before i remember i forget and my movements repeat themselves. motion memory, triggered in the fingers. brought on by touch.
i didn't know where to begin and i didn't know when to end. i cried for your safety, although it was all hands-off to me. i took my hands off; i put them away. when my eyes never met yours you laughed. your mouth was a monument, named by ancient cultures. wasted. that's right- laidbare and lit for fire. everything's so dry when it hasn't rained for days. when the only precipitation the ground will ever get is brought on by your tears.
i believed you so many times. i came to wait for you in the sanctity of the frightened night. my chest rose and fell with every step but you never saw the courage building up inside of me. such futile bravery! it all fell down; a nuclear bomb wouldn't do me better (to the soul). i wish you'd hit me in the face and smack the teeth loose and cause the blood rushing. i need that invigoration to the veins. now i have nothing. your unhappiness, counted. there is a vacancy; i judge a general absence. if the sun were to burn out and i was the only human left alive, walking about town in my torn canvas shoes, admiring the wrecks of shopping malls and unused libraries.
it's as i weren't born to begin with.
it's as if i lost the ability to read. the developed language means nothing to me.
and all i can smell are the putrid smells. a corpse rotting somewhere inside a wall.
i believed you so many times. all you fed me, out of boredom or out of spite, were the tenderest of lies. served with the sweetest of smiles.
i ate myself full.
if you ever pierced me, you were to sure to leave a hole where was there was none. when two are divided and barely, there's left one.
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