Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Garbage Truck

The gutter rat, the sewer water running through pipes, drains and concrete streams.  The mongrel dog that has been hit a few times by cars, but still runs around with a limp looking for the next scrap of food to stay alive.  The rotted dumpster that stinks to high heaven that always gets picked up last if any at all and can leave a smell in your clothes just by walking passed it.  The beggar on the sidewalk, with his cart and sign that you step over most times without a second thought.  The sirens at night, carrying the latest hit an run victim and the screech of tires of those living the night.  Stoplights and street lights that bounce of your wall interfering with your sweet sleep.  
These are the things living in your background, things that you never have to take a second look at.  But your background is my world, it is the love I have for you in secret.  You never have to see the gutter rat more than once in a day perhaps but hundreds run over my feet like a film reel of your face.  The sewer water that runs underground away from you and keeping your human existence humane, is the blood that runs in my veins poisoning me with your essence.  I am that dog trying to feed from the scraps of your love but keeping this secret has come with its price, but I limp, for you.  My heart is that dumpster filled with pieces of you that I have to hide but your scent flows up to my mind daily like a dismal tornado.  I can't stand it, but I can't get rid of it.  I sit on the street, broken, with my love for you, I don't get a sign though, as I can't ruin your world, so the world passes me by.  I hide my screams behind the sirens and screeching tires that blaze down the boulevard and imagine that I'm the one in the ambulance being taken in, before I bleed to death thinking of you. But the stoplights and street lights know my secret, they know my pain.  So they stay glowing for me, they remain a signal to me that this love I have for you, has a right to exist, even if no one ever hears about it...not even you.


9-6-2011

4 comments:

Passion Slave said...

I f-ing hear you!

Unknown said...

I tagged you in FB... also.

Unknown said...

I love this one, what a lucky lady, for whom you wrote this for.

Anonymous said...

Was written for no one. Just inspired from how much I know it hurts to love someone you can't be with.