You treacle smile touches me,
but they don't give a fuck about you...
like I do.
the words come out so tactile slimy and sticky sweet.
What is it exactly that you want from me?
My body, my soul, my art, or my income?
Everything essential to draw someone else in to the game.
I thought we had something special,
and you schizophrenically spoke only to me.
Now I remember why I don't want to play.
Borrowing souls you give to your soulless charity.
I look deeply into your eyes and see the monstrous greed,
the hollow need,
speaks to me.
You are just like me.
Incessantly,
you speak.
Author notes
Umn...TV supports what I can only describe as evil. Still House is pretty cool. Also, borrowed a line from Tool. Okay..stole it. Legal..yes! Ethical...umn...well...it just fit so perfectly. Not done yet. Still editing.
A contest entry
- No Pretense by JustBe.
1107 points, ended October 13, 2007, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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PLEASE do not remove your entry. I do plan to give you quality commentary, and I am sorry it has taken me this long. to even say this much. This is easily the hardest contest I have judged, if you did not win, then that means only just slightly more than nothing, as far as this judge is concerned.
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Never got back to editing this one. With our little girl life gets so busy...all these pursuits fall by the wayside...oh well. I hear you adjust...me...maladjusted anyway...I don't know how that all sorts out.
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