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Brine

by Aaron Blair

This is my fate, finally.
To be known but not understood.
To be understood but not known.
To be divided into pieces that
all taste of girl, the fat and bland,
the meat brined in stupid tears.
Life only allows you to think you have it figured out.
Life only allows you to flail about helplessly.
Life only allows you so many chances to fuck it all up
and then it stays that way, a face trapped
into a grimace forever, mouth twisted, eyes slit.
I can only tell you the truth that I know
but I know that I can't tell you the truth.

05/01/2011

Posted on 05/02/2011
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/02/11 at 12:51 PM

Nice, lyrical vibe to this. The repetition was done really well, too.

Posted by Ariane Scott on 06/04/11 at 02:34 AM

"Life only allows you so many chances to $#%@ it all up/and then it stays that way, a face trapped/into a grimace forever, mouth twisted, eyes slit." The imagery in those few lines is the perfect visual summary of the possibility. Like a permanent bad trip-- most of us can look back and see how close we came. And re: the last two lines-- this made me smile, because so many don't "get" that concept-- I just had a conversation with a client yesterday who likes to preface her fallacies with "You know how honest I am..." Personal honesty is not necessarily TRUTH. And last, "To be divided into pieces that/all taste of girl, the fat and bland," is gritty, raw and delicious.

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