| Make This Motion Count |

Sick twisted skin

Bleeding, taut and white.

Leftover bits of flesh

My nervous system is wrecked

All my long-term plans

And star-reaching dreams

Seem bloated and silly

When I think I cannot stop

this frénésie

Sick twisted skin

Bleeding, taut and white.

And when I go to bed at night

Another day I wasn’t right

Fingers pulsating

Unable to write

Mind never resting

Still not getting it right

I curse myself

for this obsession

But I cannot stop I cannot rest

The twitching, tearing mouth

Of a fool in the prime of her life.

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Comments on: "Sick Twisted Skin: Poetics of August" (2)

  1. Chloe Smith said:

    DUDE. Ok you have no idea who I am but ray mentioned you in one of her posts on her blog. Which I don’t look at that often…. which is why I’ve only seen your site now. ANYWAY. that was a fucking AMAZING poem. Seriously. I kind of want to make it my desktop background…. or paint it on a wall or something. Yes – that awesome. Ok, not my desktop background cuz that hilarious SURPRISE BUTTSEX thingy kills me every time I see it. Ok ok ok I’m going now. No more creepo, I swear.

    • Wat up Chloe! I actually think I’ve seen a photo of you in Ray’s room 😛
      I’m so glad you like the poem 😛 Where in the world are you? If you do paint it on a wall you’ve gotta send me a photo of it, that would be too awesome 😀

      You’re only a creepo if you start inviting me to buttsex you. Which, by the way, you can’t do because Rach has already beat you to it 😛

      Do you have a blog? 🙂

      Marty

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