Thursday, September 30, 2010

New poem

Slumped over in cars
You are still on the circuit
And you continue to lie
Like a napkin in his lap
Halfway on fire but sometimes
Barely moving
I wanted to feel electric
I wanted to claw my way up his leg
Feral but maybe could be tamed
A man who can’t stop running
Looks happy go-lucky
But really he’s dumbstruck and tortured
By his own legs
Caught in a spoke
And still on fire
Let’s get to the crux of the matter’
You taste like burnt cigarettes
And you writhe in your own spoiled clothes
Your sweat is pounding through the sheets
You get wet and make a mess of his backseat
I was looking through the barrel of a gun
But could never find the trigger
Except between my legs
And everyone else was having more fun than me
I make faces, shake the dirt off your jeans
I am crooked and a little bit jealous
Of the conquests you seem to collect
My fangs have dulled with age
But I can still take a bite out of your heart
Like an apple, the juices drip down my cheek
I was staring at you in the backseat
Aggravated at the speed of my lips
How slow it seems before they find the words
You were black beauty, snow white
And I was green with envy
Wanted to put a stop to the pop
Of your knee caps against the cement
Wanted a little more pain inside my own brittle bones

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