You feed me your own

in the trinity of sun, moon, stars

always in descending order.

I drifted around the floor, cold,
Wrapped myself in a fuzzy dressing-gown
And ignored the crumbs infecting my feet.
You lost your lunch all over the floor,
and screamed about it-
Obscenities like “shut the fuck up!” if I opened my mouth.

The days just sit around on the backs of chairs,
bad posture,
waiting for you to slap some sense into them.
Your fan your bad smell all over the globe
and the countries die like flies.

I was caught between your teeth with nowhere to go.

Ah, but your eyes pinpointed my skin,

like a blow to the nervous system.

My dressing-gown cried alone at night.

December ’05


0 Responses to “Sustenance”

  1. Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

Latest quick update…





All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

%d bloggers like this: