Your Aquiantance
A letter to all the good night
drive by boys
with their last forever kisses
that say...........
'' every little things gonna be alright"
I sit fat,
ripening
Movement growing steadily within me
I
can no longer stand the quickening
building in my body
My belly swollen
My tits taut
I have no more give.
I am sick
and
my body refuses our acquaintance.
Thick brown blood escapes me........
Seeping quicker now
Seeping through the sheets
The mattress
The floor of this old house
The moments we spent together in your tiny apartment
never sleeping
It's seeping through the lies we've told
time and time again
The drugs we took
The late night phone calls
The cross country drives
It's seeping through this poem
and the memories of New York snow falling all around us
I will not give birth to our affections
I will not sit still
under a thumb of right or wrongs
Or the canopy
of a new beating heart.
This weight of a thousand dull lead sinkers
hanging heavily around my neck,
is a thunderstorm of a trillion electric
I'm sorries.
For
I am ill with decisions that we have made
and.....
today
there is a sudden earthquake
shaking wildly within me
and
and
I am a volcano of free flowing lava
hot with pain.
Barbi Touron
Thu 23rd Feb 2012 17:44
I was thinking it was too much, but really it was how I was feeling, so I guess it couldn't be. Writing seems the best sort of therapy for things like this, I think? Otherwise I'd most likely be a pyro or something like that instead and well I don't have very many things to burn so I'll guess just keep typing.