Poetry / In the Waiting Room

Trembling with the thorny letters of my knowledge
I hesitated to push those loaded signs through
my esophagus, to lay their slimy points
over the soundscapes and the medical counters
(the ones that you sterilized expressly for me.)

I knew there wasn’t much time left, and I wanted to wait
alone with the long scars of the truth
rising undead through my throat,

alone with the results of my internal
interrogations, alone to determine what to do next.

Reviews

March 14, 2008

mash

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No. of Reviews	Overall Quality	Comment Followup
226	73.2% (45 votes)	28.4%

Age	Gender	Location	Last Login
34	F	Rock Hill, SC	May 13

mash reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

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