Wish I Could

Wish I could pluck out your eyes,
peel off your skin,
tear out your hair,
rip off limb and stem and root
and hate you to death.

Wish I could drown you
and everything about you.
Wish I knew a way
to unsew you from me,
rip out every seam,
cut every stitch.

Wish I could unravel the thread of you,
make you come undone at all the knots,
unbutton the buttons,
unzip the zippers,
unstuff your air head
and your fluff body.

Wish I could make you feel
what I feel
every moment I have to look at you
inside me.

Wish I could undo you
to the time and place we met
and move my life forward
without the taste of you
contaminating the flavor
of the rest of my life,
turning me bitter,

What would I taste like, without you?

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Wish I Could

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    Crike that’s visceral, Jones! You pull no punches, and I think that’s amazing. You’re a fearless writer, poet.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.