Saturday, March 28, 2009

practice makes perfect

she was the one that noticed
the day i went around with silent lips
pressed so tight
and slow movements
that would burst with a quick gasp
and then clamp back down
i never got to blue.

he was the one that noticed
the series of clean plates
that disappeared neat as could be
down the conveyor 
because nothing had touched them
but my fingertips as i wandered from entrance to exit
i am still not hungry.

she was the one who began to wonder
he was the one who began to worry
but neither of them knew
how long i've been dying to try it
trying to die

2 comments:

-evan said...

this is sort of a sensitive subject for me- at least it was at first reading.

but i rate poems, like most things, on last lines- and for that, this poem wins.

Candle in the Dark said...

oh gosh. i love this.