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Poem

presense-
not one of the 5
senses- void
(destroyed)
unemployed due to
lack of necessity.
everywhere i go, they
stare, they see the
stain that's still
there. ears prick,
the mutts begin 
to lick their lips,
take sips of the
sins i drip. dominant
studs, covered in 
mud, smearing me
with their prodding
snouts. but i'm
the b---h, i must 
scratch their itch,
& leave them & run,
utterly numb, having
spilled my senses
in the scuffle. i'm
the cause of trouble,
the liability, my
capabilities punishable 
by law. there is
no last straw,
the players keep pulling &
pulling- ensuing the brawl.
bounce me about, i'm your
little toy, shoot me far,
slam dunk me- down the
hole. the game will be 
yours & i'll again do what 
i'm told. startled by the
light, i sneak away from
the lonely fight, sneak to
where everything's all right.
so many things we
shared, such useful things 
you dared to teach. thru the 
blurry air, i continued to
reach, waiting for the grasp
that would pull me out.

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