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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Nothing


Artwork by Ivan Slavinsky

Nothing

Often I find my fingers
traveling over the length of my body
checking for what is missing
instead finding flesh
from the curving waist
to swelling hips
All of the hollows filled in

The lost, empty ache of hunger
no longer wandering through rooms
barefoot and shivering
gorging dreams
on hands and knees
filling the cavernous hole of want

Tortured by a voice I cannot seem to escape
invading my mind, even now to look
the haunted eyes replaced
the ghost of who I was still lingers

Knowing I can always go back
disappearing slowly
measuring each shallow breath
each racing beat of my heart
until there is nothing left to hurt
nothing left to feel

Nothing

Angela Minard 2012©