The pain,
no longer a pus
that can be extracted.
Tis a vine
that grows 'round my heart
and smothers violently.
The face I can only caress
by an electrical square
brings a bittersweet comfort.
Like vinegar and like a sweet fruit,
how can it be more unbearable?
Once elusive and now property,
I must not trespass that property.
How I ache to break the law
and take the possession,
to push it to exciting heights
and drown it in depths
that would sway a hardened heart.
The shoulders glisten in this box,
but does not compare
to their appearance in the flesh.
I kiss them and feel their static.
The emitting current from the lips whilst in a separate state are similar,
shocking and burning me within.
The ache is not abolished,
but charged and ripe for eternity.
How I wish to be above its town,
coming in to land
and greeted with its electroshock.
Melissa Hurst
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/electricity/
