|
endless desire
|
how i
feel.
or how
one
breeze
could
dizzy
me as
i fall
to the
ground.
my mind
has
nothing
to breathe
with.
no substance
to think
with.
instead
it feels
clouded
and tired.
a poor
little girl
drained of
all her
energy.
she can't
stay awake
in the
classes
that she
loves.
no energy
to smile.
no energy
to live.
there is
no more
hunger--
what a
meaningless
word.
just empty.
finally it's
too much
for now.
she wants
to exist.
she truly
does.
bell rings.
life ruled
by bells.
hurries to
buy what-
ever she
can with
the dollar
in her
pocket.
those
cookies.
always her
favourite.
she used
to get
some
almost
everyday
because she
loved them
as she
loved air
or sleep
or people.
or maybe
not so much
but close.
so she
stood in
line.
and she
purchased
one cookie.
and she
turned from
the line
and felt
a sudden
shake.
good friend
from behind.
loving embrace.
she scrambled
away.
frantically
repeating
"i've gotta
go. i've gotta
go. i'm sorry."
she ran
from the
room.
ashamed of
the food
in her hand.
ran into
another
dear friend.
he reached
for the
cookie,
just a
piece was
all he
wanted.
the normal
her would
have given
generously.
"no, not now."
and she
left in
haste.
when she
arrived
to her
destination.
when she
allowed
herself
to sink
into a
chair
because
energy
doesn't
allow
standing
for long.
never
doing
anything
for long.
and she
looked
at the
cookie.
the one
she had
been so
cold to
conceal.
so hidden
and angry.
and she
realized
how much
she truly
hated food.
for what
she did
when she
had it.
for what
she did
when she
didn't.
she wished
to destroy
it, for it
seemed to
be the root
of all evil.
the origin
source
cause
core.
she dropped
that cookie.
right
on the floor.
she should
have offered
it to some-
one
but she
didn't want
to be
the
distributor
of such evil.
the source
and core
and cause
and origin.
of all
her hate
and sorrow
and long
nights with
no tears
watching the
lights spin
as the room
dims.
oh drift away.
that's what
you always
wanted,
isn't it?
the endless
battle
for a per-
fection that
can never
be reached.
always reach-
ing
for something
she will
never clutch.
oh, what a life.
but why
feel pity
for her-
self,
when she
is the
source
core
origin
cause
of her
sadness.
she is
a victim
of no
one but
herself.
self_absorbed.
that is
not a
pretty
colour.
no
there is
nothing
beautiful
about it.
|
030905
|
