Home

but you never thought to ask.

by Rachelle Howe

her inquiries ring hollow.
she's extracted answers
from coiled veins which
spawn and hiss and stretch.

keys jingle as she
swaggers for a quick exit,
checking the mail
for the third time today.

i ask what she's running from.
"whatever i'm feeling," she replies,
"maybe it's just me."

well, we've been bunked
together for three months now,
yet here i am, bottling up
these emotions that sing,
they crack, break; suspended.
beneath the soliloquy,
blanketed by silence, i'm bleeding.

08/26/2004

Author's Note: the story of how i deal.

Posted on 08/26/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Karen Michelle on 08/29/04 at 07:32 AM

There was nothing bottled up about this. You're wonderful.

Posted by Laura Doom on 10/19/05 at 10:49 PM

the snake does it for me...a hand that bites - a good deal, telling

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)