Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Poem: Pencil

Night after night
I sharpen the thought of you
like a pencil
but cannot get the point
fine enough.

Night after night
the pain shaves me so exact
that I could blunt
at your slightest touch
break at your lightest word.

You could use me
as a weapon
if you wanted one -
I could draw blood for you
I could hurt.

Night after night
I lie awake
like a compass
dreaming of the directions
your words could take.


There you go. And please, no jokes about putting lead in your pencil and / or Eraserhead. That really will be the straw that breaks the Camlin's back.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

beautiful...simply beautiful..
good one 42.

tangled said...

Oooh see the double meaning of the compass.
Er. I will hush now.

Anonymous said...

sharp.

Mulling Over My Thoughts said...

wicked,
better get yourself a case before you poke something (or someone!!!)

Anonymous said...

This is lovely :)