Like a Knife

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

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
frozen in simplicity.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback