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| Version | User | Scope of changes |
|---|---|---|
| Jun 18 2007, 2:53 PM EDT (current) | Anonymous | |
| Jun 17 2007, 8:22 PM EDT | uriah | 104 words added |
Changes
Key: Additions Deletions
untitled
Look away I’m smiling and you can’t see me like this.
Turn away I’m happy and you shouldn’t have to witness this.
Walk away I’m whole again and you wouldn’t want to suffer to know what I’ve become.
“Stop writing, stop writing on yourself with those blades.”
The feel of metal on my skin makes me big.
Big little kid—stomping into a bathroom prison;
“Knock knock?”
“Who’s there?” said the lover of no good to me.
“It’s just me, the one who runs.”
It’s just me the one who runs who?
The running pain drips into the faucet of a vanity.
Conversation at a Chain Coffee shop
While sweeping around his feet I disturbed him from reading
His Shreveport Times.
“I can move if it will help.”
“No you’re fine.” I reply close to the end of my shift.
“So what happening in the news.”
(Pause) “Aw, same ole, same ole---just war stuff.”
----Well, Ok, how’s your triple venti toffee nut latte, this afternoon?
It’s perfect.
So there we were two perfectly disconnected men drinking bad coffee
While a nation is a going through “just war stuff.”
So how’d your son die maam? “aw same ole, same ole, war stuff.”
I see.
Will you kill me please?
Yes. Let me finish this last sip.
One girl’s lips
her lips were a
“gorgeous concert of colours”
stylistically (sucklings)
and subliminally
lyrical
Bone Knife of My Bones
Barns holding vats
Of our bones that we discarded
Once—
Shimmers smiling at my
Frigidity;
“I gave that bone to you and you made it sharp.”
Then she cut my ankle
With that bone knife of my bone—
When I wanted to stop bleeding, I didn’t.
The blood ought to have repelled
But it drew her in---even more:
Slashing with that bone knife of my bone
Hidden deep in the camp
Hidden deep in a cut down by the bayou
Threatening the barn…
Look away I’m smiling and you can’t see me like this.
Turn away I’m happy and you shouldn’t have to witness this.
Walk away I’m whole again and you wouldn’t want to suffer to know what I’ve become.
“Stop writing, stop writing on yourself with those blades.”
The feel of metal on my skin makes me big.
Big little kid—stomping into a bathroom prison;
“Knock knock?”
“Who’s there?” said the lover of no good to me.
“It’s just me, the one who runs.”
It’s just me the one who runs who?
The running pain drips into the faucet of a vanity.
Conversation at a Chain Coffee shop
While sweeping around his feet I disturbed him from reading
His Shreveport Times.
“I can move if it will help.”
“No you’re fine.” I reply close to the end of my shift.
“So what happening in the news.”
(Pause) “Aw, same ole, same ole---just war stuff.”
----Well, Ok, how’s your triple venti toffee nut latte, this afternoon?
It’s perfect.
So there we were two perfectly disconnected men drinking bad coffee
While a nation is a going through “just war stuff.”
So how’d your son die maam? “aw same ole, same ole, war stuff.”
I see.
Will you kill me please?
Yes. Let me finish this last sip.
One girl’s lips
her lips were a
“gorgeous concert of colours”
stylistically (sucklings)
and subliminally
lyrical
Bone Knife of My Bones
Barns holding vats
Of our bones that we discarded
Once—
Shimmers smiling at my
Frigidity;
“I gave that bone to you and you made it sharp.”
Then she cut my ankle
With that bone knife of my bone—
When I wanted to stop bleeding, I didn’t.
The blood ought to have repelled
But it drew her in---even more:
Slashing with that bone knife of my bone
Hidden deep in the camp
Hidden deep in a cut down by the bayou
Threatening the barn…
