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#1
My Name Doesn’t Know You Either

I turn a cold shoulder,
To an endothermic voice.
As the choir hits a sour note,
Making my lips quiver inward,
Pulling away from yours.

But as routine takes a firm grasp,
Resistance seems nothing but futile,
And I am dragged further from clarity,
With my shoulder beginning to melt,
Dousing the equivocal flames of obscurity.

Yet, they still seem to reach me.

Like smouldering cockroaches,
Eating away at flesh, valuables, and hope,
The transparent inferno becomes overwhelming,
Leaving no sleeve for a heart to be worn,
But instead a scathed face,
That only a death bed could love.

And during these,
My years of insecurity,
I try some debris on for size,
In a disgruntled mess,
That fits like skin,
But chafes like demise.

In a swelter of heated moments and incandescence,
Keeping Aphrodite and I a safe distance from each other,
The same way the drapery keeps away the skin cancer,
I find that disguises are the best way to avoid connection,
And therefore, avoid affection.

If nobody knows who you are,
Than how could anybody love you?


Not that it was any different when I had identity,
But now I have no need to worry.
As I could whisper on the world’s stage,
Or shout in the most secluded cave,
Where even my echo shakes,
With the nerves of a cynic.

And once that’s all said and done,
You still won’t remember my name.



Awkward For Spiders II

This is how I tune out my obsessions.
I scrape the dirt from under my finger nails,
or make myself snacks when I'm really not hungry
and watch re-runs of Danger Bay.


She called last week and
I hung up after her first four words
because lately eveything has been dying around me,
and I felt like that was the only way to preserve life
for at least one more night.

I waited three days and then she showed up at my door,
just as impatient as she is predictable.
"There's something I have to tell you."
Yeah, I've heard that line before, but since
I couldn't see my reflection in her eyes this time,
it felt somewhat unfamiliar.

"I know it's been a while,
and I'm sure you've probably forgotten about me..."


If by that she means 'thought endlessly about',
then she'd be right. I replied...

"No, not entirely"

"Well, I wanted to be the first to tell you...
I'm dying too."


This is how I dilute my intentions.
I make minimal eye contact, keep one hand
in my pocket and think of something witty
to say...

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Damn...

I never know how to act
around someone
who's dying.
#6
woah, i had no idea this was up... oops :-\
when birds flap their wings do the make believe they're really arms?