The pain, <br />no longer a pus <br />that can be extracted. <br /> <br />Tis a vine <br />that grows 'round my heart <br />and smothers violently. <br /> <br />The face I can only caress <br />by an electrical square <br />brings a bittersweet comfort. <br /> <br />Like vinegar and like a sweet fruit, <br />how can it be more unbearable? <br />Once elusive and now property, <br />I must not trespass that property. <br /> <br />How I ache to break the law <br />and take the possession, <br />to push it to exciting heights <br />and drown it in depths <br />that would sway a hardened heart. <br /> <br />The shoulders glisten in this box, <br />but does not compare <br />to their appearance in the flesh. <br />I kiss them and feel their static. <br /> <br />The emitting current from the lips whilst in a separate state are similar, <br />shocking and burning me within. <br />The ache is not abolished, <br />but charged and ripe for eternity. <br /> <br />How I wish to be above its town, <br />coming in to land <br />and greeted with its electroshock.<br /><br />Melissa Hurst<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/electricity/
