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cheapened and sold
by Rachelle Howeif i slashed my wrists and
held the towel of your skin
to the wound
i wonder if
i would
bleed out
or if you
would notice.
i think not.
you're antsy and i have
fried my nerves in grease.
its your favorite movie.
my favorite motive.
and you laugh at me again
in the face of fake accents.
and i have spent you, you,
my last dime
my last dollar
i am useless
and tipping has been shit
tonight.
but you've come in to see me
offered me coffee that i don't want
sold me
sold me again
to your mother
your boyfriend
your sister
and your god.
he would not have me.
he would not own me.
but you do
because i asked.
(i asked you to seal my fate
and you simply said
yes.) 12/20/2003 Author's Note: wow. this is horrible. *grins*
Posted on 12/20/2003
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Betania Tesch on 12/20/03 at 10:15 PM this stinks pretty. |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 12/21/03 at 02:15 AM Yep, the first stanza's the best. It grabs your attention and keeps the reader going. |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 12/22/03 at 11:10 PM I like a poem that mentions god, slashed wrists, and coffee. To me there is a clear connection between the three. Great poem. |
| Posted by Quinlan L Gibson on 12/23/03 at 07:01 PM oh this is like being in a vice, frozen stiff. Great work. |
| Posted by Lindsay Sanders on 12/24/03 at 10:22 PM you're antsy and i have
fried my nerves in grease.
tehe you're so clever. you never cease to amaze me girl.
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