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Published: 2010-04-07 03:41:09 +0000 UTC; Views: 269; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 1
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Maggot ParadeIt's not like she doesn't know you're too good for her,
she's known that all along,
The awareness wrenched at the corners of her mind for months
humiliating and unyielding.
The knowledge gushed over her a torrid paranoia.
Sense screaming;
"it's not safe to get comfortable"
Not with someone like you.
her…
A ruined rag of a woman,
Sometimes child,
clinging to you
like a leech drinking you up,
sinking in her teeth again and again
hoping that you won't succumb to the irritation
and instead parent her like a needy 3 year old.
You took the parts of her that where meant to be strong
and bound them.
The irony of being incarcerated by lover destined to leave;
has left my endless story telling the only part
with the power to go on.
I have planned scores of poetry
and untold metaphors to convey the heartache,
the words are eating into my throat,
consuming me like a parade of maggots.
When you are gone,
I will birth my creativity,
because only then will I have the power to rot,
nourish them enough
until they fly from my hands wringing out the last of my mourning,
leaving my narration finally silent
a lonely hollow carcass.
Aubrey – 7/4/2010

