Like a Knife

January 13, 2009
By
You screech, you giggle;
sour perfume soaks into walls
to cover some unidentifiable
disease that afflicts
thousands.

I assure myself that,
to you,
life leaves cardboard residue
and the winged creatures residing
in your mind
are faded or frayed.

Yet I cannot contain my envy,
for jagged words and swaying
demand attention, and leave me
silent
sitting
frozen in simplicity.





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