Tag Archives: placid

pen on placid

the ink

on my fingertips

is the only

thing that’s

keeping me awake

if i chisel

my mind with

words, maybe i’ll

past make

when the rot

in my imagination

is spreading

like a disease

It prevents

me from spoiling

into debilitated bliss

the rusted

gears turning

whilst ejecting

the carbon dioxide

the ink

on my fingertips

is the only

thing that’s keeping

me alive.

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Touch Me Not

Don’t touch my porcelain skin

And leave a greasy thumbmark

Leaving a warm human stain

On what used to be cold glass

.

Poreless me, I sweat through

My eyelids, and the raindrops

Slide off like a drying old glue

On a forgotten Hallmark card

.

Like the one I send every year

In an yellowing old envelope

Greetings a lacklustre veneer

In automated wishes of hope

.

They never send back, never will

Throw my postal mail in a basket

It’s fine, just an obligation to fulfil

And I’ll preoccupy my own health

.

As I polish my iridescent arms

With a newly-washed tea towel

See the glow, reflecting charms

Of the fluorescent lighting shell

.

Look at me, I’m a marble goddess

Of alabaster and stiff appendages

But heed the museum signs, okay

And touch me not, I ask, and pray

.

Do not touch my porcelain skin

Not an inch closer of your finger

I don’t wish for cracks to appear

And I’ll thirst for human hungers

.

Do not touch my pure porcelain skin, please

Kill that curiosity early, it is all for the better

I’m perfectly placid now, I’m in a cooled cryogenic peace

And I fear your torrid emotions just might make me shatter.

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Filed under Poetry