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[ january twenty-fifth ]
by Ava BluI've been driving someone else's car for 2 weeks,
and I'm afraid I will no longer remember my own.
is that what it feels like,
when you stop fucking your wife
and move on to the mistress?
you've already forgotten her body,
while she's remembering you with every pill she takes. 01/25/2007
Author's Note: it isn't real;
they never are.
(choose your wishes carefully)
Posted on 01/26/2007
Copyright © 2025 Ava Blu
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Soulo Jacob Bourgeau on 01/26/07 at 04:46 AM Ha! Thanks for the laugh, Jeanna. Hell hath no fury... |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/26/07 at 05:10 AM A dark sense of humor indeed. I don't know very many who can pull it off as well as you. |
| Posted by Katerina T Nix on 01/28/07 at 08:48 PM Wow! Great read, Jeanna! I really enjoyed this piece, it's so raw. Well done -Kat :) |
| Posted by JJ Johnson on 04/05/11 at 05:31 AM That is a stinger that doesn't stop digging in. I esspecially like the analogy that he would feel switching cars is no different than changing from the bed of his wife to that of his lover. How else can a man go back and forth without some irrational rationalization to keep from forgetting who he is laying next to in the dark. And a wife who doesn't want to know whoes sheets absorb his sweat when it's not the empty ones next to her. Can drugs cloud the mind enough to ease the pain? |
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