It took me in-
strapped a metal spoon into my spine
and hit the power button.

You exploded,
I just stared.

Then I could see
these shades of navy
swimming on the plaster.

They told me they'd be coming back
and I tried hard to stop my swallows
but you pushed it down my aching throat again.

This bitter pill.
This ugly powderball so filled with tears:
I forced it back
and down
again.

Nostalgic, really
(a crowded room
where no one ever sees me--
re-occuring dream
where everyone's a miracle
a prodigy
and I'm so bleak
I fade into the walls).

"It's not my fault."
I wrote
but thats not what I tried to say
just then.


Do I make excuses now
for crimes I never commit
to keep me in this wired chair
instead of you?
Taking the blame
protecting everything that's never broken?
Things I never had to fix?

In this moment
if I rubbed it all away
and peeled off castor oils
removed this painted face
would you still think I'm beautiful?

Would you still like my smile?

If this angry mouth of mine
produced those taboo words
could you see past each hallowe'en mask
to find that I'm still there
(residual)
my eyes stuck to the insides?



And if I kissed you once
just out of jealousy
and territory
could you kiss me back
just out of love?

So would you want me
when I'm not myself?

08/09/2004

Author's Note: "Wait it out while I am someone else...?"-JM

Posted on 08/10/2004
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia