your acidic lies wash down
from throat to sternum, festering.
you've been harbored in my
tissues for far too long.

you, my eating disorder.
you, the original binge and purge.

i first threw you up
when i thrust you into the fire,
rejecting habitual apathy
and trade mark misconception.

you've regressed, not evolved.
now a broken mannequin and
i am playing dress up with new flesh.
new flesh, and not yours.

never yours. and you
wouldn't know the difference
while being thrust upon.
or in; always in.

you're always in something, but
i'll never be in you.

and i lay here, recounting your
razor sharp tongue and
bullwhip tenacity.
remembering how harshly
you went down and
how i never could stomach
that taste again.

03/24/2004

Author's Note: rawr. written for jennifer. i think. ugly breakup. i think the first stanza is awkward, and then it kinda starts to flow, and is all disjointed again by the end. but that's okay for me because the whole thing was freaking disjointed.

Posted on 06/04/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe