Sunday, December 27, 2009

Just a Stain

He is a paper cut, and an annoyance to her
and he sits gently on the webbing between her fingers.

She has a picking problem too,
especially when it comes to her hands.

He recites quotes from movies like Good Will Hunting and American Beauty,
but he screws them up on purpose so they seem like his own.

She steals lines from her friends when they least suspect it
and turns them into beautiful poems.

Together though, they have this dance that they trip through
that only feels elegant to them.

Everyone else dances around them in sync. No one ever looks directly at them
because they both have too much clout in this redundant town.

She thinks she's leading but then he drags her hand through a pile of salt.
She will dance with others yet he is the only one that still steals.
She has had deeper wounds yet he is the only one that won't heal.

It's beginning to rot now,
and nobody likes the smell either.

I stand at a safe distance
and watch the lesion that he is grow in size.

Pieces of flesh are left where ever they sit,
as they discuss the world and how they'll change it.

He scabs up and she picks at it
leaving the room a mess.
I tell everyone to ignore them
simply because we all know
it's just a pissing contest.

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