Autopsy of An Um Friendship
I might self-destruct at any minute
tick tick
boom goes the dynamite
it’s suppression
confusion
so tangled i can’t even put it into
words
What a tangled web i weave.
Or we weave.
Is it you or i at fault?
it’s just that i am sensitive
to things (under)
the surface
a pulse of a real conversation
inside the rhythm of our idle chatter
but like the tides, um friend
i roll with the moon
and when I want to flow out
you? moon? pull me back into the strands
of Um Friendship.
So “where is this going?”
I want to shout
WHERE IS THIS GOING?
but “the rules”
and fear
keep me tied to the beach
prey for the black widow ex
and things that go bump in the night
like kisses
and caresses
and smiles
and going with the flow
means facing those things again
and I don’t know if I can.
And I don’t know if you know if you can
Are you trapped with me
in the shadows
of the moonlight....
....or do I stand alone?
That is all I want to know, um friend.
I pretend I don’t care
or that I don’t think about these things..but...
When “going with the flow”
means swinging between heaven and hell
from second to second
rolling tides
sticky web strings
real conversations?
Are you with me?
WHERE IS THIS GOING?
(do I want to know?)
Copyright © Jessica Walls | Year Posted 2008
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