Almost Don't Believe Me

[Lime_Mercury]

This poem is a melange of feelings, attitudes, and truths, both virtual and real. I'm posting this for two reasons. First, because my "5 people" story was moved here on short order, and second because it's the least I can do to shed some light in my warped mind.

 

 

 

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"Almost Don't Believe Me"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I fell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(and with that I begin to wish I had written a short story- a very short story)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the callicut center? how many times did I have to help you put your top back on? 4, 5 times? but also the steam room at the Inn has failed and oh who could forget the time we were locked in the closet?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

you were comfortable with your hands around my waist more often naked than not and age sixteen always promised just a little bit more than we'd seen, but we grow up so fast

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

your lips are sugar and your life is sweeter and Mom (if you'll call her that) stacks the cases of soda in the corner for the imaginary parties to which you're invited but never come

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

this- and you scratch away your mosquito bites and trap fireflies in jars to pass the evenings away while I write letters with no return addresses

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the house clothes itself and winter is mostly the same but the snowplows throw rocks and slush all over the driveway and that doesn't change the fact that you are indeed gone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

seasons pass, years pass, and the biggest insult that I could come up with is that I don't want you raising my children

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

rome was better. didn't we play patticake like high schoolers with amnesia? didn't we get lost in dusty streets with dusty looking people living in a place that hadn't changed since the beginning of time (as we knew it)? where we locked ourselves in the hotel room and drank orange juice until we were both sick?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

nobody fight me, I have a whip!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was taking hostages in between Rosie and Maury when the doorbell rang, I slashed my wrists and went to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I woke up in Heaven, God told me I was meaningless, and I cried how I wanted to go home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mom still stacks the cases of soda by the wall, but Dad's passed away, and I'm contemplating going to the grocery store and never coming back, but how will I live?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The answer's easy- from paycheck to paycheck!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But what was the question again?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Further pieces of my poetry, and an un-workshopped version of this can be found at my devART site, and by messaging me on MSN and asking for them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

C&C is appreciated, but not required. You can be an "OMG UR LEET I WNAT 2 HAEV UR BABIES!!111"... well, as long as you're female. :D