05-30-2011, 04:35 PM
Wilt
When I write I very rarely
feel something, something
attached to the words,
something with teeth that
grazes my skin just barely,
leaving only a note of a
place or a time.
Braids
Trailing along in pretty
ribbons. Sometimes they
take me, the rest just
seem to be.
Incision
But a few, a few touch me
there. The others are just one-
night-stands and I honestly
couldn't tell you their names.
When I write I very rarely
feel something, something
attached to the words,
something with teeth that
grazes my skin just barely,
leaving only a note of a
place or a time.
Braids
Trailing along in pretty
ribbons. Sometimes they
take me, the rest just
seem to be.
Incision
But a few, a few touch me
there. The others are just one-
night-stands and I honestly
couldn't tell you their names.