What do you resort to?

If you’re eaten inside out
And the garters of your guts pinch hollow cheeks

What do you resort to?

Listening to time perishing the rubber life raft keeping you afloat

Holes the size of mouths . Holes the size of mouths

A day is exhaustion
The gluttony of energy

Fragile in her deluge

She gives and takes like unstable drug
You watch the faces of those who should care
Because they’ve worked with you for years
Because they share your blood, your bed, your humanity

Still you matter no more than
A stranger ordering tea will matter
The drink cooling in frigid hunger
For the next minute, the next chance

O to be seen without unkindness

You live in the cavitied mouth of people waiting for thrills
Cheap tricks
Expensive mistakes
Just excite me
Please, now, yes, harder

Be different, be worshipful, be erasable or fashionable

and if you can’t please us voraciously

If you’re just you, well then …

You, don’t thrill us one bit, you remind us

Of all the things we don’t like about ourselves

The wan face

The unbuttoned exhaustion

The pockets filled with stones readied for a-sinking

There’s nothing fucking new about you

We turn our eyes away, as we would

Our own reflection, a dog minding not the sharp

Whip of indifference

If you stand in the doorway like you did as a child
Waiting for tenderness
You’ll die standing there
As an old adult with sunken features
Trying to hack it in a cut throats world

Are you fucking kidding?

Even your mother doesn’t like you
What the fuck do you expect
Hear the guitar, it sings your dirge

It is a horse and the night is a filigree tambourine

And you are a colander without holes
Whole without leaking
A spinning void unable to give birth

Counting your tarnish with slippery fists

You stand in hallways, wait for time to arch backward
Where you might be able somehow
Undo those wrong knots
Find the way you stop dying as you live
Feel whole without bones
The carpet of your skin a loose mask
That despite itself

Keeps slipping slipping slipping

11 Replies to “Sentences aren’t only written on paper”

  1. Where are those
    Where have they fled
    Or are they so sunk
    In their own decay
    They no longer see
    Beyond themselves
    Those for whom you
    Were more than a show
    More than entertainment
    More than distraction
    Have they really gone
    Leaving you to the vampires
    Who even come to scorn
    Your blood grown too thin?

    And two verses of song from John Prine “Hello In There” come to mind:

    “You know that old trees just grow stronger
    And old rivers grow wilder every day
    Old people just grow lonesome
    Waiting for someone to say, “Hello in there, hello”

    So if you’re walking down the street sometime
    And spot some hollow ancient eyes
    Please don’t just pass ’em by and stare
    As if you didn’t care, say, “Hello in there, hello””

  2. No they are not they are etched in to our souls!

    By the way I have emailed you via your contact form. Explanation there. 💜

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