I'm done with thinking. I won't do it ever again. I won't, I won't, I won't!
Now, I've never claimed to be anything but what I'm not. Never tried to hide my lies or cowered under the weight of embarrassment. I am blank, empty and damp.
I am not the kind to laugh at things that are truly amusing; not the kind to be patient, sweet or slow to anger. But I am never the kind that I am. I always am what I'm not.
These thoughts are not my own. These thoughts are not thoughts. Or mine. What once were my fingers have shaped these symbols, sculpted these words. I am not the master of this cold flesh. I am not a part of this movement or these tapping sounds against plastic.
I fly. We crawl. They are not dying. I have discarded all these notions. I have promised these unusual limbs not to state ownership. Not to lead. In return, they do not tell me truths I don't want to hear.
I have no recollection of blood or any pulse in my body. This body. No longer mine. I forget. I have never fled from fear, I have never been slow to crave pity.
I have never been anyone but you.
Words by True Words Embellished
Read 1072 times
Written on 2007-07-30 at 20:51
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Notions Concerning Limbs
Now, I've never claimed to be anything but what I'm not. Never tried to hide my lies or cowered under the weight of embarrassment. I am blank, empty and damp.
I am not the kind to laugh at things that are truly amusing; not the kind to be patient, sweet or slow to anger. But I am never the kind that I am. I always am what I'm not.
These thoughts are not my own. These thoughts are not thoughts. Or mine. What once were my fingers have shaped these symbols, sculpted these words. I am not the master of this cold flesh. I am not a part of this movement or these tapping sounds against plastic.
I fly. We crawl. They are not dying. I have discarded all these notions. I have promised these unusual limbs not to state ownership. Not to lead. In return, they do not tell me truths I don't want to hear.
I have no recollection of blood or any pulse in my body. This body. No longer mine. I forget. I have never fled from fear, I have never been slow to crave pity.
I have never been anyone but you.
Words by True Words Embellished
Read 1072 times
Written on 2007-07-30 at 20:51
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
wolfthepoet |
|
Bob |
