It's Brewing, I'm Afraid, and He's Holding Back the Nicotine.A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty
It's pathetic
how this resembles the drifting, half attempted smiles that appeared on the carpets
in the middle of 2005...
it's abhorrent, his teeth, his grinding simplicity...
it's
pathetic how I try, burning holes in the ground with heels that forgot how to kick...
and it stalls, time frustrated with me...
I'm
pathetic in his arms...
I'm not beautiful when he holds me.
It's....
not what I chose to do this time around, he's imitating last week and I'm losing myself in the repetition of his cinema...
if he appreciated art I may morph, somehow, into Dali, I may...
melt
when he forgot me, when he starved me, when I fell....
I scream, my voice isn't heard, I echo off his walls as he whispers that he loves me, I bounce back and forth over undusted corners and nicotine stained ceilings that sunlight never touches, and I amuse him
as he whispers...
that he loves me.
It's out of hand this time, I can't hold on...
he's crossed the line and requested I draw straight into January, but I can't see her this time, I can't envision tomorrow, I can't calculate Sunday...
it's pathetic...
the way he's miles away and I still control the way he controls me...
it's insanity brewing and I wonder if I'll end up like them...
falling from his ceilings as he watches with a half attempted smile, as he brushes back tears
and whispers
that he
owns
me. © 2009 Jeanmarie FlahertyFeatured Review
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Added on December 12, 2009AuthorJeanmarie FlahertyThe Gulf, FLAboutI am reality, I am art, I am every dream I've ever had and the corners of my childrens lips when they smile. I am tears and laughter, I am shoulders and knees, I am a writer, a photographer, a mother... more..Writing
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