he wraps me in skin and madness,
finds the pieces of me floating face
down in bathtubs to be comforting
and capable of his touch.

i am gathering used flowers from grave-
yards tonight. it is all so very long over due.

how to explain that i am unable to sleep
inside of myself tonight. i am weary and longing
and tired of this fractured shell that caves in
a little more with every dirty breath.

he didn't see the sacred soil beneath my finger
nails, but only because he chose not to. only

because he believes that anything worth something
is worth looking twice at. he will not look this way
again and the flowers i hold have fragile heartbeats
that grow less with every new hour. it is getting late.

there is nothing left to do now but return the used flowers
to the graveyards, the only place fitting for anything that
hasn't the strength to run with the living. and perhaps there
i too will find sleep.

it is all so very long over due.

02/03/2003

Author's Note: i'm just tired.

Posted on 02/04/2003
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