Living through library solitude
with cushy silence pressed in around me
like cotton batting in a black-brown pillbottle
you haunt like bile rising in my throat.

Seated in rigid plastic amidst volumes of Fictions,
Mysteries and forgotten Harlequin's
you float into my head and buckle me over
with your ill manners and undesputable charm.

It occurs to me just how much I ache for you again
how much a single kiss from your disgusting
manipulative, repulsive lips
would give me just the hit I'm jonesin' for. Fuck.

Eyelids slide downwards, I feel you there beside me,
warm with almost-there-but-not-too-close,
a bit of flesh here
a stroke, a lick, a kiss maybe there...

Extreme supressed rage engulfs what I am
as they open once again to see you flash
and disappear right before my watery eyes,
just another vile repeat of my pathetic lovesick drivel.

A breeze directs the pages into a collective laughter,
one right after the other in silent mockery
21,22,23,24,25,26...ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha
"Fuck you."

With relief
the sudden intake of breath all around
punctuates the sickly-sweet silence.

The door slams behind me.

09/26/2003

Author's Note: It was odd, the utter silences drove me mad I think.... I know I know! profanity scares off the children but it was the only way to capture the feeling...

Posted on 09/27/2003
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia