Cunty McCuntface
(?)Community Member
Offline
- Posted: Sat, 20 Nov 2004 13:04:24 +0000
I Feel.
Feeling the carpet melt
into a hardened lump of fibre,
I thought about ripping out a chunk
of my hair to add.
This voice, so spastic and not,
is bouncing into the phone
and echoing in your ears.
I didn't think that I had even opened my mouth
and you opened my mind,
instead.
Even green marble eyes
look at the world differently
when their owner is flipped sideways.
Instead of exhale, all I can do is
inhale and hope or
pray
that there's still some breath left inside.
This carbon monoxide
keeps filling me up instead of
your words about soap and ring-ting-ting-ting
electrical vibrations and just
who
that composer is.
Trace an outline on the wall
of skeleton dreams and wants, I
don't think
about you or me or even
us. If I could, I would but you see,
the carpet keeps melting and hardening and
I'm stuck in the fibres.
Intertwined in a mass of threads,
opening my mouth to breathe or scream
but instead
I smile.
I smile and the ceiling splits open,
an empty vaccuum exploding the gas
that has buried its way inside my brain.
You pause
in the middle of a thought that once belonged to me
or maybe it always belonged to you
but you paused,
inhaling the car fumes and hoping
(praying)
I don't light a match.
- Seanna
Feeling the carpet melt
into a hardened lump of fibre,
I thought about ripping out a chunk
of my hair to add.
This voice, so spastic and not,
is bouncing into the phone
and echoing in your ears.
I didn't think that I had even opened my mouth
and you opened my mind,
instead.
Even green marble eyes
look at the world differently
when their owner is flipped sideways.
Instead of exhale, all I can do is
inhale and hope or
pray
that there's still some breath left inside.
This carbon monoxide
keeps filling me up instead of
your words about soap and ring-ting-ting-ting
electrical vibrations and just
who
that composer is.
Trace an outline on the wall
of skeleton dreams and wants, I
don't think
about you or me or even
us. If I could, I would but you see,
the carpet keeps melting and hardening and
I'm stuck in the fibres.
Intertwined in a mass of threads,
opening my mouth to breathe or scream
but instead
I smile.
I smile and the ceiling splits open,
an empty vaccuum exploding the gas
that has buried its way inside my brain.
You pause
in the middle of a thought that once belonged to me
or maybe it always belonged to you
but you paused,
inhaling the car fumes and hoping
(praying)
I don't light a match.
- Seanna
