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Thursday, December 20, 2007

Close Your Eyes And Count To Ten

Close Your Eyes And Count To Ten

From the floor, the phone starts to ring

From his mind, images of a ring
Clenching his heart, the fist of this thing
His pores scream, his eyes sting

He bangs his head against the wall
Anything at all to avoid the call
Blood and stone and steal and bone
On the floor, pieces of a broken phone

There's faint remnants of her in this place
The scars on his arms and tears on his face
He writes her poems in his mind and in dried blood
The memories weigh heavy like mad thick mud

From the floor, the phone starts to ring
From his mind, images of a ring
Clenching his heart, the fist of this thing
His pores, they scream
His eyes, they sting


In his hand, he holds a brick
In his throat, he chokes on sick
In his mind, he stops the noise
Head against brick, he chokes on sick

The bells don't stop and only get louder
Coughing on the air like stone powder
His scars bleed fresh and the tears come again

Close your eyes, and count to ten

-AP 12/20/07