Monday, December 5, 2011

[redacted]

the world
the entire world a clenched fist, skin turning white from pressure
vibrating, almost humming
I held it up on my shoulders, arms
like a drugged Atlas,
mumbling profanity and blaming only what he holds

and when The Man said the word regret,
and that I should forgive myself,
oh those arms became so weak
lactic acid building up in those muscles and
we reached the point of failure

secrets like blood in your stool, like
thievery and abuse
what you thought was mildly unlikeable like cheap potpourri
became all-encompassing
became a gas chamber
became Hell and vegetables to you

and if I should forgive myself,
who will erase the memories
the daily/hourlys
what otherworldly, imaginary device will help me to forget
just how evil I was
back then
when I only loved one thing
and it wasn't you