The non poem

The non poem

A Poem by Alex

Amidst the chatter and defining drama, I stripped their worth like soaked dress in ocean storm.

 We pity those whose bodies breed decay, like spores they infiltrate.

 The ability to grieve lights a blazing none can contemplate.

 I am not kind even though the general propaganda will let you believe otherwise.

 petal falls from the tree.

knotted fingers fail to grasp beauty.

she labours beneath heavy handed acquisition. 

This is not a poem, mere self-pity painting the conditions of my exile.

 as the outside permeates the membrane of self, I reel in anaphylactic ecstasy.

Stuff un-slept minutes to the back of the closet, inhale the ghost of 1997.

He says He loves me, it does not make him real 

Once I wanted, once I loved ...why are all the lights still shining?

© 2014 Alex

The Call Of The Jungle
Only weeks before winter's touch, Don Loco's new sea-faring vessel, La Perla Negra, entered the Nicaraguan docks.
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Added on October 26, 2010
Last Updated on January 26, 2014



High Point, NC

I am Alexandra. One has called me many things- - I might be all these things or none of them, it does not really matter .Your opinion of me will change with whatever expectation I will or will not ful.. more..