(no subject)

[_hettie]

Nothing much to say really.

I'm sick of complaining.

Which means this entry will be blank space.

Heh.

I'll post a poem instead.

tortuosity

I am resigned.
Smudges of charcoal hem my eyes,
a fingernail width from
engulfing my sight.

Your eyes are torrid -
hot and dry
enough to scorch my skin.
But your scorn punctures my lungs.
And the stabbing in my side
couldn’t be
your
ambivalence.

I will not enchant any
dust collapsed spider web
or sleep, perchance to dream.
(This silverfish, this dweller in books
could never be desirable
or at least feel
heat).

That bow of longing
is clamped firmly shut;
I may never see your teeth.

I may never,
I may never know.

It's the usual sob story, but fuck, it hurts.