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Burning

A sneer,

A snide

remark

graces your skin,

Tingling despite

the smile.

I'm disgusted.

I'm irate.

I'm alive and

burning with rage.

I'm storming.

Clouds gather

At my fingertips,

Clouds gather at my

Lips.

The lower

Are troubled,

Churning and spurning

The gentle hand

That often lies.

The upper are

Sweet, soft,

Cotton candy

Falsities,

Covering up any memory

Of personal taste,

Of individuality.

I exist to please.

I'm a saucy

Sort of servant.

I'm disgusted.

I'm irate.

I'm alive and

Burning with rage.

I'm forming.

Forming infinitesimally

Tiny shapes,

Bits of broken

Anger and slander

Printed fresh like

A book.

Smaller and smaller

The pieces will shrink,

Pushed away

Into

The farthest

Corner of my cortex.

Flash,

Bam,

And with a puff of smoke

It's almost gone.

I'm a magician.

I'm disgusted.

I'm irate.

I'm whatever

You please.

I'm cotton candy

Shit-sticking,

White and pliable;

Olive will give away

If you just keep hitting.

I'm disgusted.

I'm irate.

I'm barely hanging on.

I'm burning

With rage.

But,

I'm alive.

Yes,

I'm alive.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
hands
Lebanese
Published
Aug 14, 2010
Lines·Words
70·173
Notes

at the least.

Permission

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