PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

theres a key in a garbage can

Friday, Oct. 18, 2002
How do people justify sleeping with someone else’s spouse? Why and how do these girls find the peace and quiet in their minds when they know they’ve gotten naked in the same space as god’s vows? I have seen this too many times to ever be able to dissuade myself from believing these women are anything but evil incarnate. They are not singularly to blame. It takes two and with the instrument of destruction belonging to him, they are simply stroking the strings offered to them. I imagine how tight they must close their eyes and then I remember wedding rings lost behind washing machines oozing soapy bubbles that never clean the dirty mess we’re in.

My own actions are balloons minus helium and filled with sorrow and regret. I have much to be sorry about, even less to be passive about anymore. I am running, but I am active, I am a scream that never will be silenced. I will never lay down in fetal positions crying an ocean to a shore that takes me back to being all by myself.

I will retaliate this time because every time in the past I hung my head in disbelief and while I wasn’t looking there was more nakedness performing inside blank staring walls. While I held my skin tight holding it all in, it was all being spilled forth like murderous carnage.

I have dreams, and those are things no one can steal. I have thoughts of good things that tomorrow can bring, I have those and you can’t steal them just because you can’t remember where you are supposed to remove your clothes.

I am a component to this love I am thru hole not attached.

I know you read me too Bear. I know you do. I just have one question, when you see my pain, my anxiety attacking me, when I pound my head against the wall trying to feel something self created, do you understand how I got there?

I know throwing a key away solves nothing.
10:07 a.m. ::
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