Monday, August 20, 2007


I’ve been saving you
for a special occasion.

I’ve let you grow
long enough.

Now I’m ready
to devour you
just to pass the time.

I’ll pick at you
at first,
teasing you
with the other digits
that met a similar fate.
Listen to them,
as they pull apart
little pieces of you.

Before long,
my teeth will
surround you.
My teeth will
pierce you.
My teeth will
splinter you.

Don’t worry.
It’ll grow back.
Then I’ll do it
all over again.

I can’t let you grow
for too long, now;
the longer I wait,
the tougher you get,
and I’m the one
in charge here.

The worst part is,
when it’s over,
I’ll let you hold
that little piece
of yourself
that I bit off,
and when you
angle it just right
it looks like
a smile.

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