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a letter to his whore

Author: freeradical
ASL Info:    22/feline/london
Elite Ratio:    5.26 - 311 /405 /63
Words: 316
Class/Type: Poetry /Longing
Total Views: 1175
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 2153


a letter to his whore


(i know it's less than eloquent
but it's the only thing i can
think of, that does not require
pages of exposition)

i wish i could say to your face
what i write to your back.

i am tugging with fortune
and nearing dangerously close
to the mud puddle in the middle.

the life i live in my words
is the one i wish the world could see.

the one
where you actually give a shit.
and aren't involved with
whatsherface, or whatever
flavour of the week it is right now.

i was pistachio.
strange, but charming and
entirely too whimsical to not
fall in love with the archetypal villain.

my fervent wish,
is that i'll show up at your wedding
to the girl you think is right,
with a red dress
(red's really the only appropriate colour,
i'll never be dull enough for white)
and you'll realize
that if you don't leave with me now,
forever will be a few short
and long years of alimony checks

if not that,
that you'll show up at mine,
a commitment ceremony on some
godforsaken island somewhere
with monkeys flinging poo
and you'll drag me back
into sanity,
and make love to me
in your expensively appointed
and we'll stain your hardwood floors.

what i'm most afraid of
is that neither will take place,
and i'll be lulled in complacency
and it will remain,
as it is now,
that the only time i feel any ounce
of passion or life within my prison
of a body
is when i think of you.

passionless is a horrible way to be.
lie to me.

an imaginary world where
you love me,
over this cold and lonely night.

even in the poems,
you never love me back.

Submitted on 2007-12-16 20:33:28     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  That ending works amazingly. It crashes things so dramatically; as if you're trying to finish a jigsaw puzzle only to be reduced to a wreck - flinging your arm and brushing off everything from the table. It's tragically beautiful without having the need to create beauty because you already know - or at least appear to know - that the right elements are already there so you just let them affect you. And you mix your imprefections with them to give that nice finishing touch that makes it all the more human.

Anyway, I've wrestled with this feeling so many times, to want something that you can't have no matter what you do. It's almost overwhelming. I know of people who died because of it. And while it is easy for some to say that these people are merely being mellow dramatic and weak, I can't help but understand it. After all, it does make perfect sense; you give all that you can to someone and when that person/thing doesn't reciprocate or he/she/it makes it seem as though he/she/it can't reciprocate, you are left with one question; what now?

And everyone knows that "what now?" can lead to the worst of "this is it."

From what I've read from you, I think that you're voice is clear; it is strong, uncompromising, it's cigarette scratched and beautifully cynical. Why beautifully cynical? Because you can sense a longing for hope... a glimmer of knowing the possibility that things might change for the better after somebody reads your written... um... personification.

And that is not as easy to project.

| Posted on 2007-12-17 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ]
  I would finish with:
Then if you can't say you love me
in a poem of your work,
I say get the hell out of here
you slave drivng jerk.
| Posted on 2007-12-17 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ]
  That is the saddest thing I've ever read. Maybe I'm just too sensitive tonight, but it made me cry.
I love the wording and descriptions and... everything. It's all perfect.

"what i'm most afraid of
is that neither will take place,
and i'll be lulled in complacency
and it will remain,
as it is now,
that the only time i feel any ounce
of passion or life within my prison
of a body
is when i think of you."

That's the part that really got to me. I've been thinking the same thing for the last several years. It's unbearable, but you said it beautifully.

even in the poems,
you never love me back."

And that made me cry even more.
Haha I'm an emotional wreck.

Anyway, I really love this. Sorry I have no critiques or anything useful. I wouldn't change a thing.

| Posted on 2007-12-17 00:00:00 | by Razor2TheRosary | [ Reply to This ]
  The life I live in words
is the one I wish the world could see

is such a rivetting thought! Maybe these are the best lines!

It's not a love poem, it's a poem about a garbage relationship that's interfering with your love life. I often want to say that, and this time I did even if it's too personal! Sorry. But hey, all that heart and all feckin wasted ... it's a story of entertaining pathos all right; but why the heck are we so eager to be characters in soap operas??? Can the creativity for poetry be put to use as creativity for one's own benefit?
| Posted on 2007-12-16 00:00:00 | by Glen Bowman | [ Reply to This ]

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