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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 11:09:00 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 115529
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => sticks and fabric
[time] => 2006-02-27 19:48:49
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I walk through torn doors with heavy steps, into a cold room with desaturated sticks and fabric, chairs and tables with nothing but icicles of my eyes. And I know I am alone. Wishes and hope, all it is, clouds on a bluescape, grass and daisies of a child squinting his eyes tightly shut. And though I try with my mind, I sleep alone and not with anyone but myself. And does it matter even, because always I will wander, entertaining doomed fantasies over fiery explosions and smoke in my eyes. Do you doublethink?? Yes, but I don’t, so no. Stepping blindly and not looking at what I know but convince myself doesn’t exist. And though I try with my mind, I sleep alone and not with anyone but myself. Punch me and puke with me you are disgusted I have no faith. I lie to myself. I am translucent and flimsy, a shanty in a gale, pretending it’s a breeze. I don’t ever want to think of you like of them… Your words and your face I resent and loathe with an angry heart betrayed. The laugh I loved impales me, many knives and your nails sunk in my soft flesh as I buckle. Erase them all and empty my inboxes. Delete your pictures and your poems. Grate my teeth with gated eyes, furied tears i’d never think A vow and welcome back to the cold. And of this I always fear... Tremble and deny, an icicle and cold fingers, no proof ever of an affirmation of anything except pain. …And so I continue to cheat myself, solitaire with a deck with no aces, affixing helium balloons with silly string, stinging repulsion of myself for not trusting you or that you’re real. Still five minutes before my shift, I jog upstairs, deposit my bags on the floor with a crunch, and I begin to search for the whipped cream dispenser. Behind cornstarch, rows of tofu or quaint jugs of authentic Canadian maple syrup. I’m not looking for 36%, it’s time for WHIPPITS!! It’s simple: A Co2 tube and a dispenser. Inhale. Release slowly. Repeat as necessary. Ok, now I’m lightheaded, I don an apron and stumble downstairs. Five minutes later I’ve got a piercing headache. Gee, that was fun. [2006-02-24 23:34:38] [comments] => 0 [counter] => 178 [topic] => 61 [informant] => SensitiveSoAbused [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )
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