Power Politics Poems, Margaret Atwood [ID:Your Body Is Not A Word,it Does Not Lie Orspeak Truth Either.It

power politics poems, margaret atwood [ID: “Your body is not a word, it does not lie or speak truth either. It is only here or not here.” end ID]

“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.” - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

To myself,

I’m sorry I couldn’t complete you.

I’m sorry for the scars I gave you.

I’m sorry for the words I can’t take back.

I’m sorry I couldn’t love you.

I’m sorry,

“I also go by Dana, but yeah that’s me,” She whispers, keeping quiet to prevent JD waking, turning to see the newcomer, one of his friends. 

She had her bomber jacket on, and her makeup reapplied in the little time she had before he came. But not enough to apply any on her arm, hence the bomber jacket. But it was cold as well, given that it’s almost November.

“You must be one of his friends,” She assumes, as she walks toward the indicated space, looking back at Jason and JD, checking on them before turning back to him. 

“Sure. What do you wanna talk about, while we still have the time?”

“...That is gonna need a lot of coffee for that one. But for one thing, he kicked Michael’s ass last night. I’m not dead yet either and we’ve been traveling for a couple months at the very least.”

“He’s probably the only reason we’re still alive considering alive. Maybe roll with that?” She asks. Scratching the back of her head, she’s starting to consider that it may be a little more difficult than it seemed. 

She’s starting to wonder if there’s a correlation between the number of deceased parents and a knack for hunting the unknown. But she brushes that aside to think more of how to deal with this situation, especially now that another of his friends is coming at any second. It may take more time even if they all come up with a plan, so as to apply it better.

“I’m pretty sure that’s suppose to be my line,” She mumbled audibly. She feels regret amongst all her feelings as she adjusts to such closeness. She can’t remember she had ever hugged or been hugged by anybody.

The chemicals for the first time start to click as she felt comfort for the first time in so long. How refreshing and warm it was as the chemicals sink to her heart, allowing herself to feel something other than nonchalant for the first time.

“I’m so, so sorry for leaving you,” She confessed filled with guilt. “I wish I never left you.”

Thread:: Reclaiming A Monster’s Lost Treasure