Friday, March 25, 2011

Clotheslined

Visions of hate

and loved ones splitting,

fathers drinking,

drugs and rape

Tissue tearing

cutting, dripping

teardrops streaking,

sunken face


But there's a pill--

the doctor's orders:

uppers, downers

lifelong drowners

Medically made-up

motion sickness

cycling, turning,

three times a day


But my stomach,

empty, burning;

and my nerves,

static, controlling...

To my surprise,

have come to meet

an all-consuming

heart-felt yearning

to kill this hurting

and hang to dry.


Hot flash, cold spell,

light head,

doorbell...


I'm

not

home.



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I've always loved the look of clotheslines, but not so much the feeling of being strung from one.

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