Notes from a Dying Woman

Tara Caribou – Weeping again

Raw Earth Ink

Tossed and turning
I am worn out, wrung out
Like a dirty dishrag done its work
The beauty of youth, faded
The wisdom of time, unreachable
A tear on the cheek, wasted
Replaced by liars and outward appearances

Love whispered from the corner of lips
At convenient moments in the dark
Love unreciprocated
Love that was not love at all
What’s it all for? It’s dissolving from memory
Art for art’s sake, seldom
Art as a healing potion, vanity
Art to speak the unspeakable, unsatisfying

The stench of it all fills my nostrils
My own ineptitude
Their disgusting games and revolting lies
Self sacrifice like a martyr
Hand to forehead: woe! woe! woe for me!

All I really wanted, elusive
Sick and dying and past my prime
Yes, wrung out and smelling sour
The sun grows dim and colorless
Sheets cling to my ankles
I find myself weeping again

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