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from her womb like a canker sore
by Rachelle Howe
You can't forget.
My head swims.
The senteces flow like an invalid.
My dyslexia is getting the best of me,
my fingers fumble with the backward keys.
"S's" look so much like two's in the pale light.
They burn into me.
I am stumbling through the dark.
You can't forget.
My head swims.
My nerves shaken by the
visions of sex,
the feel of an orgasm.
It's warm.
She's warm. Those crevasses,
those thighs that wrap around my head.
But I can't forget
the scream
the weight
the tear
the feel of him
the feel of rape
can't forget knowing
tonight that
feel
is upon someone else
like a vulture.
And I hate myself
because she's not savable.
And I hate myself
because god is deaf.
09/22/2005 Author's Note: first things first: I'VE MISSED YOU GUYS!! :) i know i haven't been around for awhile, but i hope to be able to post new stuff as they come. secondly, this is hopefully the final draft to this piece. please lemme know what you all think.
Posted on 09/22/2005
Copyright © 2025 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 09/26/05 at 09:22 PM OMG...this is fabulous...brilliant...what an introspective...meaningful and raw |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 10/06/05 at 09:40 PM yeh - i've felt like i'm missing an appendage - not that i need a crutch, of course...I'm quite resigned to falling over reading your stuff
[the weight of her, the wait for her, and so it goes...] |
| Posted by Maria Terezia Ferencz on 07/29/06 at 09:42 AM the feel of rape
can't forget knowing
tonight that
feel
is upon someone else
like a vulture.
well said, this is heavy |
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