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Nov 2013
I chose, well before the poison set in.
No, not this time. Shut that door.
In the darkness, I chewed my thoughts,
Palpable question, **** those old ideas.
They burnt out fast but I did much quicker.

Told myself to take warmth
beneath some other shelter,
because I ached down to the bone.
Yet I was too busy stifling the moan
Radiating from my gut.
Swallow, stare, shall I part my hair?

Fiddling with my fingers-
a child’s pantomime
At least I dare to speak
but I’m no longer at home
and not a soul
speaks
my language.

I bent my head on the ride back.
Dragging my neck, crooked in delusional defeat,
my glances traced trash the metro floor
afraid the people were staring daggers at the surface.
Indeed, somewhere a light bulb did burst
but I was already making my way up the stairs
so the shards were at a distance
I escaped unscathed

I chose well, before the poison set in,
No not this time, I shut that door
In the darkness, I slept alone
Pas de question, **** that history
I give heed to dosing & remain alight
La Jongleuse
Written by
La Jongleuse  France
(France)   
909
 
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