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literature

Teetering on Brinks of Sense

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By watchmedancewildly   |   Watch
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Published: March 7, 2006
Oh, how I’ve missed you, my darling
How I’ve missed your gnawing soul
How I’ve missed those lucid eyes
That superficial cold.
How I’ve missed the way I could stare upon
The epitome of all I hated
(All I envied)
How I miss the bittersweet death of simplicity.
Bono malum superate?
For the life of me I cannot remember I cannot.

The introduction of everything that
Made me
Made me a conspicuous chameleon
In my own home.
I know you are already I know you are you disgust me
Conditional, yes
But less the more so.
Oh my dear obsession, how you squeezed the unwilling teardrops from my dry eyes
How you invaded me with bloody mirages
And how I miss that forked tongue cleansing my white bones
And sliding fingers on ravaged skin.
(Tearing away the purity)
The innocence within.
But
Mostly
I miss the excruciating
Hand gripping the window bloodstains dragging
Morbidity of the way
You lay
So still it was almost necrophilia.
Do you miss the time I forced your chin up to the stars?
What are you doing we all got hurt why you first why you
In the background, someone falls in love.

***

You dedicated a song to yourself
And when I stared for one blank second into the monotony of your eyes I saw
The hundred thousand surfaces of a
Living hyperbole.
Keep writing the lyrics I confess you win
The confusion melted around a scholarship of thought
And I brought my love to the institution
Just for fun.
It made sense when your music parted
Chemical neurotransmitters and only
Only scientific things
Which can be erased long after death has withered at your charred fingertips
Flaking fickle excuses down a crackling telephone wire
And I saw the smashed psuedo-glass of a box on my way home.
Really, it was the prison.
And we lived behind its oppression, daunting
For so many independent months that
She breathed soul into a machine as easily as I could have thwarted her with vicious lies
And Trotsky died in a field of beans no wait that was Pythagoras.
We went walking in pretend countryside
That never meant anything to me.
We went dancing in the criticisms of pretentiousness
Different-coloured smiles
Never united.
But you see
They now know nothing of me.


***


First person.
It’s getting me down waiting to drown.
It was the dull anticipation
Hitting me like
Religion
(Relentless)
That led me to doubt my identity when bound in paper constraints.
I paid for these hallways
I,
From my own thudding procrastination
I, from the hidden backs of palpitations,
Extract fallacious sin
To spoon-feed you
Spit
Swallow.
No, I’ll never forget the salty taste of compunction
Nor being stripped down for their advantage
Wandering, smouldering eyes
And not once did I ask why, my darling,
Throw caution to the dogs.
Rank ranked ranking the best show ever trivial worries the joy of a child with a day off school
It never ends
Not with you, him, marriage, children.
A call in the middle of the night is never good news
You’d do well to remember that.
A rambling catharsis of colloquial sayings
And nobody questioned the impact, my dear
Of your disappearance
And I missed your long nails.

***

This was my favourite song when I was you
And now my trembling thumbs press rubber souls into review
Across a set of wooden stairs
Oak, maybe
Arbol argent et les autres - how we laughed.
The fading effects
Can only hope to personify
That expression you made in my imagination when I once told you
The truth.
An invader
Into our perfect relations.
I bet you hate it when I laugh.

***

Oh, how I’ve missed the anger
The days you spent rifling through
My kindness, presuming there may be
A reservation for you.
The chase was worth the race
But at the line
I’m inclined to believe
That youth blackened your naïveté.
(I’m sorry, it was never meant to rhyme.)
The only way I adore
The new
Is when it tarnishes so fast
You can just make out
The screaming aggression from the past.
And my only witness fled the stand
To leave my waiting victim meandering in calm waters
Calm waters before the storm.
© 2006 - 2019 watchmedancewildly
A kind of catharsis, commentary of different experiences and an attack on conventional views of love/romance/relationships.
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