By Becky Finnegan



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Bloodlines home

My blood is like rust in my veins
going to a long dead machine called a heart.

cold fusion forms on this carcass called a soul.

the sun always hurts my eyes, just knowing it shines on you.

At night I dream the same old decoded digital dreams.
the sunlight in your smile.
the touch grace that now is a gray bitter joke.

When I wake it's the something as it was the day before.

Sometimes I can still hear you, maybe feel you.
Then I feel empty & alone again.

Laugh you fucking bastard.

I still hear you many worlds away.

I still have knives in my back from all times you touched me & made me feel real, not like some broken machine you left to rust.

Here's your knife plunge it in me & start cutting.
rip me apart & swallow it down like your wine.

what amusement do you get from leaving your old lovers to rot at your feet like skeletons in a boarded up closet?

I move through the day a metal zombie.


to feel alive again &

for the sun to shine


Site design ©2001 by Cindy Rosenthal
Poem © 2001 by Becky Finnegan

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