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a dull gnaw that lies to save face

by Lauren Singer

there is a dull gnaw,
raw and penetrating.
it lurks in the pit of your
intestines and waits to poke holes.
its blows are shallow, but they sting.

sometimes, it can be
as faint as a low-pitched whistle.
but you hear it surface.
it is angry.

it is loneliness, so rough and vain,
reaching revelations and shining in the bottom
of every empty mug.

you see it in the kisses of the lips
meant for other girls while you
stand cold, making love to your cigarette
shuffling your muddy feet.

it's a spiraling stream
and you fall under, swallowing
every heavy blow and calling out to names
that don't quite hear you,
and when they do it's always just never enough.
to matter.

so you slip and get caught,
and it is a slow kind of drowning,
where you can only breathe once every five minutes,
of exaggerated air.

but it's not like you would know.
you haven't asked,
you just think i'm pretty sometimes.

it's not supposed to be anything else.
i'm not supposed to be lonely when i'm with you.

10/27/2006

Posted on 10/28/2006
Copyright © 2024 Lauren Singer

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Rachelle Howe on 10/30/06 at 12:36 AM

"sometimes, it can be as faint as a low-pitched whistle. but you hear it surface and sometimes it is angry." what about taking out the "and sometimes"? makes it stronger. *goes back to reading*

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