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sticks and fabric

Contributed by SensitiveSoAbused on Monday, 27th February 2006 @ 07:48:49 PM in AEST
Topic: selfstruggles

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 dont, so no.

Stepping blindly and not looking
at what I know but convince myself doesnt 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 its a breeze.

I dont 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 id 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 youre 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.
Im not looking for 36%,
its time for WHIPPITS!!
Its simple:
A Co2 tube and a dispenser.
Inhale.
Release slowly.
Repeat as necessary.

Ok, now Im lightheaded,
I don an apron and stumble downstairs.

Five minutes later Ive got a piercing headache.

Gee, that was fun.

[2006-02-24 23:34:38]

Copyright © SensitiveSoAbused ... [ 2006-02-27 19:48:49]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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