Sunday, December 13, 2009

Stethoscope.

Can you hear me in this short string of words
This incompatible vocal of syllables and mesh
Looped through genuine smiles and loud bursts of gut-wrenching giggles?

Can you hear my voice in this tacky jingle,
my delirious melancholy and niceties shoving themselves
between your insults and intellectual moonshine?

Can you hear my rolling eyes, they give in and burn
and trickle to a watery sludge that is in constant battle
with your bullshit, if you'll pardon my language.

I am not accustomed to cursing, cursing, and I'd like
to blow my nose with the dreg that hangs from pouty lips,
so with little adieu, I'll be on my lonely way home.

Stop trying to hear my footsteps; they are simply tip-toeing
in the opposite direction and even if you linger to watch me glide away
don't expect me to turn around. Not this time.

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