~ Jars

this is a cage, these are the bars, these are the scars from trying to escape, here are the scratches, the holes and patches, the claw marks on the pantry door this is the cellar, the storeroom for misfits, down in the basement, musty and damp, there is the clock with a sticking tick, and here is the lamp, burnt out blue this is the view, it’s a picture of you in a mason jar, here is the mirror above the basin where you are, here is the cover of an empty book, torn out pages, a startled look this is the stage where you read your rage to a dead audience, here are the palms pressed to the glass of a false defense, there is the lid holding you in, forbidding air to enter, these are the gasps, here are the traps set to keep out the users here is the salt to rub in the wound, the broom in the corner to sweep it away, this is the truth, the masquerade and this is the way, the way you fade. this is the jar, placed on the shelf, lined up in rows, a facade of faces, these are the traces of what remains, this is the rain, these are the stains, all are preserved, properly sealed, and labeled "human aches and pain" here is the hand that put you there next to the one who ripped out her hair, across from the one sitting cross-legged, barely there, rocking here come the others flocking in, more jars, more healing coffins, a place where you harden and soften, then kiss yourself goodbye, this is the dying, these are the ends of tight ropes, here are the hopes lost and forgotten, everyone copes in isolation, everyone copes this is the sound of desperation slipping and dripping down the water pipes, these are the days, these are the nights, and here is the shattered lighting, this is the mirror you’re fighting, and these are the souls hiding behind the cold bars, the lost stars, —the lost stars in jars …in jars ……in jarsPublished in Recursive Angel Ezine Art by Odilon Redon Rule for contest :  Read - Pink Fire, by Whs sucks Written December 16th, 2001 © on Jan 28 2003 03:03 PM PST, Wendy Hammond    0 • 10