i'm not melting, i'm only reaching deep
inside myself to find my liquid center.
what a mess i have inside, but no
leaks, no insides spilling out, not now.
warmth is so dangerous, look, you
push me down and lap up my spills.
tongue flick in, flick out, faithful, i
know i can trust you, you're loyal, but
somehow the probing hurts. i just
can't melt tonight, don't push, you're
too close, i'm melting, help, stop, oh
no, not tonight, too much, i'll burst.
you prick me and i'll bleed much more
than blood-- it's emptiness and
loneliness and self-deprecation that
will well up and spurt out like an old
artery that's been cut one too many
times before. this is it, the end of
her, of mainon, she's gone, and i'm
a puddle at your feet, wondering just
how i'll look splashed on these walls.

02/26/2002

Posted on 02/26/2002
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