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All mixed up like a stack of school papers

by Andrea Colton

Was I here?
Or, maybe it was him?
The indignation that played
across a face- this nameless
this bloodshot
this writhing face
with no keeper.
Rattle up my brain, fine. But,
please, don't break anymore windows.

We’re all slashed together now,
One over and under.
He's woven these plastic wrapped smiles
into a filmy, tapped up picture.


What happened to all the bobbles?
You know, the bubbles filled with air?
The only air around here
is from wrung out bottle rockets
and falling cannon balls.


My God, I can't catch a breath...
cold you please remove your teeth
from my neck?


We haven’t learned
a thing…


If you are you,
I must be dust.
Mote.
Render me something more
than what this is.
Lace me up with dynamite
and I'll jump into you.
Maybe even take out
the thought of you.


Yeah, it was me.
Tainted with particles
of you all stuck under
above
into my skin.


Well.
Am I really just the
could-have-been-but-never-was
?


This playground is no fun
anymore, with these paralytic rides.
And orange peels, in the shape of mines,
leave me laughing softly
as I stomp out the ground and
eat up the rain.


I'm a fucking psycho.
But people still like me.
I guess that makes me one up
on you.


If seeing is believing, I must have gouged out my eyes.

11/16/2010

Posted on 11/17/2010
Copyright © 2019 Andrea Colton

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Eric Seligmann on 11/18/10 at 03:19 AM

Definatly like this one. I can totally relate to the state of mind. Thank you for this read.

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