There was a snore tucked between the ribbon of my spine; it was light green, contrasting with my shirt that grew a forest. I could feel the dye bleeding through like a botched attempt at suicide. All the clothes that hung on my shoulders felt like coffee cup feathers; ceramic. Not foam, nor cardboard, just that stupid porcelain shit that seems prepackaged into every suburban, family-sick, house.
We all whistled to ignore the boredom. You most of all, because you couldn't stand the way I rolled my eyes when you got drunk. And the party etiquette: puke on your best friend, and then try to sex them up, was like trying to steal a blunt from a guy who's overdosed; there's some guilt and glares...and spice, but it doesn't yield any morality. Not even some sick sort of sympathy.
**
He waved my forest away, and across my chest painted a cherry dress. Every little dab of red was tagged as "fruition", though everyone knew it was ink; some malice shade of maroon, that just kept spreading. And even after it had touched all the seams, and I was covered in blood, it just fell to the floor in clumps. Not bleach, not Tide, not even Shout could rid me of the red.
"Is this what dependency looks like" I asked; amused by his gaze to see everything but what was so damned close to him. "It looks kinda like a day old smoke cloud, with a little abandonment rotting at the edges".
"Abandonment? Fuck, I always thought that was sex.
I think you need glasses".
In a list
A contest entry
- Prose by Envelope.
800 points, ended August 25, 2007, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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oops, I don't really do prose anymore - sorry, I clicked on this. I hope I didn't waste your points featuring it but I really felt compelled to read all your stuff so I guess it was worth is overall. Have a great day!
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Excellent
There's humour within this piece, I suppose because if you didn't laugh, you'd cry. Conversing it never was, but to read it, you can imagine the body language doing so. I'd have titled it, 'abandonment', but by 'concerse', it gives it depth and dimension, so it was right to title. Nice wording!!! I like, "There was a snore tucked between the ribbon of my spine;", That was typically Amy Winehouse stuff, a song definately from this, I would say.
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hmm incredible to say the least, I'm glad to see some honest, creative and brash writing here, a few times i was a little put off by your word choice, i think the addition of the misanthropic anarchic (sp?) detracted from the more personal feeling in this piece, but it by no means hindered it, great fucking job..all around
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this is very abstract
but very well put together prose... this one definitely makes me think... I will also have to bookmark it and re-read it, later, when my mind is not as broken...
I loved every moment of this reading, but especially:
"some malice shade of maroon"
wonderful imagery!
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