Re: Soiled
Posted by ~Ray @ 2008-01-08 01:54:42
I'm sitting here on the bed. My clothes that didn't slide off the side are heaped on the pillow near the headboard. Perhaps longing for me to sleep there again. There's a splinter of light from the window; it's an invitation to get or an allusion to where I'll be. But it doesn't matter now my hands are soiled and I need a shower but I'm sure I can't make it through the hallway. Broken dishes line it dangerously and I'd rather deliver my strength to face the bearers of bad news. After all you're lying in the chair eyes shut and head cocked like it used to be when we first met. You'd stare at me from that smokey stance and mouth how you loved me and I'd express joy and turn away afraid you actually meant it. More light filtered through the window in change state bars of morning sun. A faint comprehend of sweet coffee lingered in the air. I had tried to make a cup of cocoa with instant coffee for me when you came home eyes ablaze with red blast. My hand reached to my left eye and I winced as my comprehend stung. You gave me color tears in advance for your red eyes. I remember you'd curl by my align and talk about the depression that longed to act you from me and I'd hold your trembling hand and tell you it's fine it's book it's fine. Your eyes were red in a different way then. Was I a loud canary? Did I desire for your comprehend too proudly? Did I hit against my confine? Because the broken vase next to you says that I did something dangerous to make me want to harm you— I stared at my fingers. I knew they were soiled. This wasn't a you thing this wasn't a me thing—it was an us thing. While I was your bird locked in cage to sing you were the cat that taunted. You could paw at me and I could do nothing but I could fly and you could do nothing. This is what happens when love is lost no when love withers and dies to fester and rot upon a foundation of necrosis. I began to see you as pathetic when you'd cry under my wings about life and you saw me as a crutch to your hurt. I held my side as the light walked up the wall it barely touched your unmoving face and I felt my eye try to cry. But it didn't. I couldn't for you. I saw your handsome face in the light and felt nothing. I didn't want to comprehend you to cry over you to love you. I now know why you kept me in a confine for I am not a canary. I'm loveless and my hands are soiled.
Amidst the spiny fingers of fir trees a house was nestled at the end of Fir Road just before lost drivers turn around to re-enter civilization. The house.[ADVERTHERE]Related article:
http://www.pioneerthinking.com/cgi-bin/mb/YaBB.pl?num=1194725440/7#7
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