Mar 1998
Speaking words of rancid pain
that nurture the mind and
acid bite the heart
so that growth is less hopeful
and more dread to most
here! here I am
still spitting vowels with a tortured tongue
that renders all thought insubstantial
and vague
and this blood
viscous and congealed upon these pages
denigrated by none
but self that knows no talent
skill flacid and pale
does this passion last through ennui
and the agony of petty chores
or are we doomed to always seek
those lips we may not kiss
and those minds thtat we can only
yearn
to touch
but I have nothing to say
that matters more than you
for you are the guiding star
brilliant feat of hope
that makes this longing soul
reach yet further
speaking words of rancid pain
nurturing mind
and acid biting the heart
I find growth less hopeful
yet more sought
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