Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Friday, July 14, 2006

rivers of clay

you'll never know,
where you are with me.

you'll never know
what i really think.

and all the while,
ill be gurgling conversation
and confidances; so it'll take a while to sink in
that I never really say anything ...

and now i'm burnt because
i reached out to touch you.
and now i'm broken bcz i flew against the pane;
again.

now there's just a new pain.

its deja vu:
i've been here too.
the hurting dulls and passes;
the bitter taste, of dirt and guilt
takes root and only grows.

as i watch ur figure fade, in my head,
as i walk away,
i just hope this ones the last
there's only so much leaving i can take

3 comments:

Cocaine Jesus said...

it isn't funny at all BUT...
isn't funny how we all feel guilty as if we, the wronged, have done the bad thing when the reverse is true?

PS. sone anal wipe left a stupid comment on Writers Against Terrorism on your article "Why?". I verbally head butted him and no, i'm not sorry. go read it!

Roger Stevens said...

I like this poem. Very nice. Oh yes.

It's Saturday night - 10.30.
Jill says it's time to play trains.

Roger Stevens said...

It's not what you think.