This little Bitch, Marla Singer!

YOU :(

i do not remember who it was;
the certain quiet figure stroking my back
like a Christ soothing a wounded pagan soldier.
(was it ever you? never.)

it was a wave of
frigid forgiveness,
consuming concern,
surrendering sufferance and
grave pity.

i could have wept, or
maybe screamed in tribulation.

but i did not,
would not,
and never thought of.
(lies, lies and lies.)

that was how i wanted you,
honestly.

but i recalled:
you did not,
would not,
and never thought of.
(well, i sought comfort in everyone else.)

and therefore,
i would stop this flood ("god forbid!", i once cursed).

(it's over.)

true,
let's face it:
you dazzled (you still do; it's just presently a choice.)
with your bouts of refulgence.
but
you disregarded.
you perforated.
you imprisoned.
you lacerated this random and unremarkable
obscurity (me!).

so if you dare question this alternative,
i would say, "it's over, it's over,
i was falling, failing, baby, but this is the final cull."

i can no longer sanction this mortal, debilitating
and passionate preference.

now now,
good-bye forever, my ravishing anemone.

you were never my flower to clasp.


If you walk away, I'll walk away
First tell me which road you will take
I don't want to risk our paths crossing someday
So you walk that way, I'll walk this way

Posted by martha lung on Thursday, November 17, 2005 at 11:47 PM | Permalink