Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Retro Wednesday

Every Wednesday, I am going to share with you a poem I wrote several years ago.  I am posting it simply because I like to share my poetry and I have a lot of poems from my past.  If you would like to join me in honoring your creative past, feel free to share your link below--it can be a memory, a poem, a photograph, a drawing, whatever you feel like!

This poem I wrote when I was around fifteen or sixteen--not sure of the exact date.  It was not based on any particular person.  I basically wrote it playing with the idea of persona. 


Night reaches out for me,
It's finger-tip blackness
wraps around my eyes.
Do you believe
I cannot look at you?

You mouth secret words
at me, pretending
I know what they mean,
You smile
as if you don't own your face;
Prevarication--my toy from
your own hand;

These lies that sleep
in your throat
Awaken at the worst
Taint me like brown blood
that sits, stale,
And waits to be cleaned
by indifferent rags;
Death to you, dear boy,
I can't bear your voice.

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