Wednesday, 23 September 2009

Do I?

it's funny, if you take a step back,
to see how much they twist you around
turn you inside out
and back to front
even if you don't exist any more.

you are wiped from existence,
you never breathed the air,
nor smiled in summer,
nor kissed their mouth with your own.

you keep the ghost of a memory
locked inside, afraid
that the recollection will tear its way out
if you shine any light on it.

like a fog, silently decending
on the quietest of towns
it settles upon you.
For he twisted you around
and upside down
and you couldn't even tell.

So the step is taken back,
and we are shown a new perspective
from sideways.
it makes sense this way,
and you know you're standing on the ceiling.

She twisted you around
and upside down,
and now you can see how and why.

it's what they do,
those lovers.
they break each other,
and stick one another back up
with crazy glue.

but the heat from somewhere else comes in
and melts the glue
so that only stitches
only tissue
will heal the cracks they once made.

Even then, when the stitches are repaired
and only scar tissue remains,
all it takes is a look,
a smile.
a name.
and the seams come unstuck.

And he still twists you around
and upside down,
and keeps you there as torture.

a sadistic pleasure
at watching you squirm
knowing it hurts you inside.
attention, acknowledgement
your lifeblood.
and he's draining you of it.
so you question if you exist.
she keeps twisting you around,
and upside down,
and her look is of tragic indifference.

but you did.
and you do.
you exist.

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