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Down

April 19, 2011

An old, old piece redone.
This comes from an almost long forgotten, secret, dark spot in my heart. We all have some of those lurking around, don’t we? This is an extremely personal piece that will always have a bit of a vice grip on me. The circumstances surrounding its origin will always stay with me for the good and the bad. I found and went down memory lane with these words. The skeleton remains the same but I have reworked it in that last few days. Aaah my love/hate relationship with rewriting goes on. I flatter myself but I am quite pleased with how it turned out. Both the reasons behind it and the writing of it have made me better… …

Down

Strip me down to nothing.
Lay me out, bare
on a cold metal slab;
it stings like a slap in the face.

De-construct me down.
Down to my molecular level,
to atomic spirals and
my chromosomal structure.
We both need to see it.

What significance lies beneath
this thin veneer
of shriveled skin stability?

The ice of your stare,
the steel of your scalpel
makes quick work
of my heart.

70 beating dreams per minute.
Slowing.
Down.
Down.
Done.

Dissection.
An abstract autopsy
carving your critiques across
my vulnerability,
preforming your pathology
on my pieces
and my prose.

My creativity is your cadaver.
My most private parts
piled on your scale.

Three pounds of poems
and twenty feet of intestines
measured and weighed and bagged.

Sample my syllables.
Analyze my alliteration.
Decompose me down,
my dusty dreams to dust.

I am in a constant state of breakdown.

Rebuilt now with make up,
hiding rigormortis.

It’s already set in.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. April 25, 2011 4:00 pm

    i loved that🙂 very real and beautiful.

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