(I)


here I am now - who are you?
scraping fingers 'cross the wall.
(scritch-scratch, scrape)
hollow echoes in the vast and open halls.


free of purpose - fall away from here
coarse surface made of stone;
grating on my spine; against my flesh
we stand forever and alone.


serial number - coded persona
wrought with years of bitter lies;
calloused fingertips abraise me,
we're enslaved 'neath sanguine skies.


plug me in - refute a witness
fiberoptics stride through cords;
with all the graces of a leaded tongue
white bears the bite of sharp-edged sword.


(II)


he lies of white-washed, sanitized walls
they're padded! - understand?
I'm sure you do,
no more abraison from your pale, unsteady hand.


/stomp, thud, clatter, crush/
they're coming for you, now.


huddled 'hind a missing wall
for fear of open outlets
on the wall -
don't their eyes make you whimper?
their fearful expressions
ever-present in plastic faces.


(III)


fading fast - you lost your mind
forget the way you came
run out of bottles; they're all hollow,
the end results are all the same.


hey diddle-diddle - don't you play this
if you value your heart;
dangerous surface, harsh facade;
here we stand together - but still apart.


endure what? - I don't remember;
I simply feel these stony walls
that stand behind me; stoic bound'ries
here I'll refuse to heed your calls.


foolish escapades - open vaults
of nothing real; your sacrifice.
they all know that I've been seduced -
a psychic tomb of loneliness; a fraudulent device.


I don't regret - there are no moments,
this is what I'll leave behind,
it's so amazing; all these lost seconds. . .
which again I'll never find.

© Erin L. Werle, 2000-2003

06/11/2003

Posted on 06/11/2003
Copyright © 2024 Erin Werle