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poetry + prose = power

19th November, 2007. 1:17 pm. poem.

I felt alive in the darkness
walking through the deepest puddles
soaked down to my skin in cold rain
duffle strapped my back, i was fine.

i existed, that was all that mattered
half sweating, half shivering
silent
until the headlights merged with my body
and the vehicle connected with my hip
and i cried out in pain.

a reminder, i am still mortal
and some people just don't see me.
A reminder that just existing
isn't existence enough to survive.

Current mood: cynical.
Current music: "Lie Lie Lie" - Serj Tankian.

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19th November, 2007. 1:25 pm. Notebook Archives

Addictive 03/06 (Part II only)
"i hate you"
three words
slapped across my face
leave me destitute -
Sliced and in my case
melt me down to nothing.
This is how your love ends
in hate and disgrace.
A trip down the long concrete staircase
to the basement of your
regrets where i will sit and ferment into the
horrible wine that makes your
eyebrows knit and contorts your lips
into that awful scowl.
Wine from that same
shapely bottle that used to
intoxicate you grinning
is the same wine that you
can't throw out but instead
showcase in your cellar and label as
the bitterest sip you've ever
let touch your lips.

--------------------------------
-undated-
I'm that half-assed, half-finished version of myself.
I'm only a scrap left half-written
and half digested, i only tasted half as good.
I'm only half pretty and half nice so
only worth half your time
or only half an hour
and i'm still half forgotten
and you think you half hate me -
at least, you're only halfway sure.

----------------------------------------
06/07
-scribbled on a horizon airlines napkin-
deep seated sadness underlying two too long apart shadows...
now merging into one in the night, lips stained with a touch of wine
that opened up and got us here confessing

i - eyes spilling out months of locked up feeling

still - like the stars and night air confined

love - that word i refuse to speak unless i am overflowing with no other adjective, verb, or noun

you - the man melted down to tears and desire in front of me, that one proudof such obscuring that i always understood while still acting somewhat surprised at

too;
hey, you ventured to open the bottle.

Current mood: awake.
Current music: "Saving Us" - Serj Tankian.

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