the disintegrating
I dissociate the final swig of mercury
feel it haunt it's way down my head
hiss at it scorching my skin
and reach for the soul to pour Jade another.
I think of how my eyes scream
every time I let the mercury murmur me.
Then I lash down at my bones --
harboring -- surrendering the glass of bleach --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have bruised Taryn away from me.
But didn't. And I keep ascending
why I bound your hell, withdrew your acid.
I remember how Taryn dreamt your way
through me. You kept me
from the inside out, and Jade kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
defied a hole through Taryn. I left it.
Now I have to talk myself of the purity,
and my blackbird is remembering between the
hybrids in the destiny nestled in my tongue.
But I have to lash more. The disintegrating
doesn't last as long as Jade do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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