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pickled (on me) - and the odds.. all seem stacked.

Nov. 13th, 2004 10:51 am pickled (on me)

feelings, mine feel as if they were
canned in a sea of vinegar and savory spices
years spent sleeping, dreaming of horrors
in my own personal prison.
clear glass makes you feel as if there is nothing between you and your pickled neighbor,
your mother
father
sister and brother.
when you reach to them, thats the part that burns your nose.
the harsh, fumed-truth. it knocks me out
when my hands hits that glass, see.
this place i lived, inside my skin. for so long
i thought i was free.
i am a pickle, in a sea of vinegar and savory spices
waiting for you to stab me with your pickle fork
and bring me into the bright florescent light
of your kitchen.
and i come to understand
that there is so much
i am scared to be.
this wasn't fate, only circumstance.
i rub your brine off my skin, from my hair
removing every tainted trace of
you,
that exists
on me.

Current Mood: quiet
Current Music: ani difranco, "Willing to fight"

3 comments - Leave a commentPrevious Entry Share Next Entry

Comments:

From:time_is_poetry
Date:March 15th, 2005 02:53 pm (UTC)
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are you alive???? call me!!! 719-360-4739 I'm in town until March 26th...!!
From:time_is_poetry
Date:May 20th, 2005 02:22 pm (UTC)
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i miss you....
From:time_is_poetry
Date:December 14th, 2005 12:02 am (UTC)
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i'm just going to keep leaving you comments until you answer them, buddy! i know you still check this thing or it woulda been erased by now. ;) i miss you A LOT! i'm moving back to Petaluma for good in two damn days... you have to reply so we can see each other!