05-23-2014, 06:18 AM
An ugly, angular woman breathes a breath so close to death she rejoices,
But death does not deliver-
It hasn’t for months nor will it till someone gives up for her.
Her life hangs within the certainty of some sickeningly mechanical balance
That does not cease to preserve her pain.
She walks a tightrope of tube and tests and
When she falls
She’s beautiful for a moment
before life affords itself with force.
At night she watches without awe as the world walks to the will of some merciless god
She no longer believes in.
Yet she offers her life in frantic prayer
For the simplicity of a final finality.
But god in grace gives no solace
to the eternal contortion of her frame nor the sick twisting of her expression.
She lies in wait for the second coming of death
But death does not deliver
It seems decent to me. Some of the lines in bold could be cut and some could be rephrased.
But death does not deliver-
It hasn’t for months nor will it till someone gives up for her.
Her life hangs within the certainty of some sickeningly mechanical balance
That does not cease to preserve her pain.
She walks a tightrope of tube and tests and
When she falls
She’s beautiful for a moment
before life affords itself with force.
At night she watches without awe as the world walks to the will of some merciless god
She no longer believes in.
Yet she offers her life in frantic prayer
For the simplicity of a final finality.
But god in grace gives no solace
to the eternal contortion of her frame nor the sick twisting of her expression.
She lies in wait for the second coming of death
But death does not deliver
It seems decent to me. Some of the lines in bold could be cut and some could be rephrased.