I feel constantly like

I should be apologizing

for what I am: a writer,

Β damned creature,

whose favorite hobby

is to break then

reconstruct you,

to make you cry

and make your heart

feel like iron in

your magnetic body,

banging and sticking

and never finding a

place to settle;

my job is to enchant and

leave disenchanted,

to talk only with one

foot in the door so I

can run when you start

asking questions

and to make fire out of water

and leave you gasping

at the sight of it –

it’s real, it’s not real,

it’s true, it’s a lie,

are you the lie?

If that’s so, then

I must be the liar;

whose responsibility it is

to make you fall in love

with the things you hate most

and to make you recoil

at the sight of every person

and remind you always that

you are one of them and

to make you forgive

fire-breathing dragons

because I need absolution

and force you to come alive

during your own death

so you can hear the nails

hammer you in

and watch your skin

peel off like plastic

and your own fingers slip

from the mountain ledge

you’ve clung to for so long –

this is the story,

this was always going to be

the story,

the only story

I am capable of telling.


19 thoughts on “Apology

  1. HOLY )(*)&^%$@@$*&^(*&)&%$!!!!!!
    “Like” doesn’t come close to covering how I feel about this piece.
    I will have to come back when I can find more and better words than “like” and expletives.

      1. Ok. It’s just another expletive, borrowed from a conversation with Alice, but it’s a very special expletive;
        “Great Geyser of Feck!!! This is Good.”
        I’ll still try to come back for a re-read.

Thoughts? I love those.

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