The Fonce by Ellen Donbeck
October 15th, 2009 | Published in Poetry
After hours, I awoke in a pool of sweat
And the realization that I’m very much not alone I look out my window for the comfort of sunlight Only to be mocked by the skyscrapers of the dead Why had I nestled here I thought So close to this restful sight, so loud in its eternity Ticking, taunting any peace My cover blown, I freeze My throat begging to be swallowed Dry, can’t breathe She’s here Underneath my nails I feel her creep into me She’s hungry For a moment I think I’ll run For a moment I think I’ll scream But that moment was all I had And now she will have me I wondered if I loved I wondered if I lived I look out my window for one last time Why had I nestled here I thought Away from the warmth of the sun Maybe I’ll get the answer After her dinner is done
And the realization that I’m very much not alone I look out my window for the comfort of sunlight Only to be mocked by the skyscrapers of the dead Why had I nestled here I thought So close to this restful sight, so loud in its eternity Ticking, taunting any peace My cover blown, I freeze My throat begging to be swallowed Dry, can’t breathe She’s here Underneath my nails I feel her creep into me She’s hungry For a moment I think I’ll run For a moment I think I’ll scream But that moment was all I had And now she will have me I wondered if I loved I wondered if I lived I look out my window for one last time Why had I nestled here I thought Away from the warmth of the sun Maybe I’ll get the answer After her dinner is done
We'd like to welcome Christina Cicchelli to our lineup. She's been nominated for an AVN for Best Actress and is also a columnist for $pread Magazine among many of her endeavors.
Comments