(she crawls into tight spaces
listens to the sounds of dying birds
as they fall from the ceiling.)

& there is a pale face in the background
he smells of regret and lives where the
diseased are always laughing.

& i have seen the anguish of children,
have watched it grow into something contagious
& you are so close now i can smell it

these final hours are shoved into you
a fetus you cannot abort, a shame you cannot
outrun or hide away in the shadows from.

his is a soul that can't be touched &
your arms will only be flailing with all
of the good intentions you thought you had

this is your ending, your suffering in silence as
his violence darkens the best parts of you as you
follow his breadcrumbs to the land of the bruised

(& i wanted to say something meaningful but watched
her rot away instead because you just cannot save
the living if they refuse to outlive the dead.)

03/29/2009

Posted on 03/29/2009
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