---

 

Order this writing in the collection book Life on the Edge this huge volume is available for only $2395

Order this writing in the collection book Rising to the Surface download: only $8.95 paperback book (with b&w interior pages): $14.95 paperback book (with color interior pages): $59.95

Order this writing in the collection book It All Comes Down download: only $595 paperback book: $1395

Order this writing in the collection book S&M as a paperback: or a hardcover:

Order this writing in Kuypers’ first poetry book Hope Chest in the Attic available for only 1095

Order this writing in the book finally, literature for the snotty and elite (v1) This is volume 1 of a 2 volume set, 6"x9". Most of this book is also in the 5.5"x8.5" book.
the 6"x9" paperback book: $21.95

Order this writing in the book finally, literature for the snotty and elite This is the 1st of a 3 volume 2009 set.
the 5.5"x8.5" paperback book: $14.95 or as a e-book/PDF file download: $5.95

slate and marrow


I

No one could understand, it was
like every morning I couldn’t
find a reason to wake

up. The world felt cold, like
slate, like the marble tiles
in the front hallway of my

parent’s house, that floor was
always cold, oh, how I’d like to
feel the cold against my feet

now. But there I was, in some
eleven by twelve apartment, room,
running from my past, my

present. Every morning I would
wake up, and I would wake
up from that night again -

when he came uninvited, or
did I invite him? The haze of the
drunken nights from then on,

wearing the dress, knowing the faceless
faces couldn’t care less, as long as
they could have their way

with me later that night. What
would my parents think of me
now? I’m no longer their little girl.

I could feel myself getting older
by the minute, I could feel my skin
wrinkling, my joints getting

stiff. I could feel my bones,
the marrow drying up, my bones
crumbling away. And every morning

I still put on my clothes, got my
work together, headed out the
door. Could I ever get out of this

cycle? And it was if I had never
realized that all this time I was
looking for a purpose. And it was

you.


II

When I strolled up to the street
singer, I stopped because I saw
your face. Why on earth did you

think you could tell me your secrets
when we only met fifteen minutes
before? And just being in your

presence made me break down, made
me hate everything , made me
love everything , made me want

change. I’d hit you in rage, I’d lean
on you, my slate, and you let me. And
it was as if the marrow was back.

I could just lay in bed at night and
feel the blood running through my
body, I could feel the oxygen as I

inhaled hitting my bloodstream.
I could even feel the marrow, all the
cells in my body moving faster and

faster. My skin would tingle.
I suddenly had power - I could make
blood move to any part of my

body, I could make a pain go away,
I could turn myself into stone, not
so I was cold and unfeeling, but so

I was strong, immovable. And I did it
for me, but don’t you dare think
for a minute that I didn’t do it for

you.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...