Member-only story
Plastic
You changed, I try; neither of us truly free…
You get ahead as the days go by.
Further and farther away into the distance;
Whereas I am left here where I stood;
In the days of our youth, I reminisced…
Even then, you were busy with the scores;
And I was trying to even out our woes;
Why can’t I let go?
Oh, but I shed my skin to be born anew;
Blind in deceit that only sees:
Your eyes, your smile, your touch;
So plastic, suffocating me.
You dine amongst the finest lot, so philosophical;
To the tomorrow of greenbacks, new economics;
I stick to a bottle of malt and grass; demented.
At day’s end, I picture you undressing.
Brushing another man’s scent off your skin;
Yet tainted and stained in my thoughts and ink;
Who am I to question?
Our sins only add to all that is original;
‘Obsession’ is another name for ‘feeling’.
Your hands, your voice, your words;
All plastic, choking my existence.
