The only personally I take

January 13, 2009
By adora lee, Schuylerville, NH

Ask me how I took my coffee yesterday…
I took it personally, I think I’ll say.
And then it’s fermented tea till nine, a drink too divine to swallow…
I plan this loneliness ahead till ten p.m., though the unexpected rush eventually sets in.
A welcomed hot shower is cold in its comforts, as foreign beads of sweat spiral down my spine.
Isn’t this as good as my superficial sex, gets?
Awkwardness present in the things I do, I illustrate with sanity in the back.
I considered myself sane up till this point…
Anxious enough to rest, so as to finally relax;
I bore myself in bed; where I dream of running away as far as my potential will carry me…
And still hide in its depths of secrecy.

The author's comments:
Punks cope as misanthropes

I’d tattoo coiling snakes spreading out of white orchids in resentment of father,
But the feeling isn’t there…
I’m unconvinced I have pity or regrets with unsympathetically separating as a moth from mother’s straitjacket cocoon…
Parentals and society share a common misconception,
I’m a lesser form of animal;
But I too impose pious illusions.
I’d antagonize the situation without procrastination,
But there is hesitation; in conclusion, the feeling isn’t there.
Blame this geisha harpy to have theft you of un-digitalized butterflies…
I think, therefore am computerized
Where chosen crossroads have temptations of your virus elude me,
Un-incarcerated and hated, envy this proud happy geisha harpy;
If you don’t share an impassive feeling there
In that heart, in vain, which still pretends to care.

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