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Literature Text
Unrefined
I find you to be quite
Unrefined.
Dank, dark, dirty.
"Burn after
Reading."
"Wash hands after
Using."
I can easily have
Such thoughts of you,
Yet I can not seem
To push you out.
Have I been somehow
Tainted?
So greatly
Exposed?
Infected so profoundly
That I can see you
When my eyes are closed?
That memories of you
Can creep into my mind
At the worst possible moments?
Or possibly the best?
I do not quite know
Anymore.
All I seem to know
Is that I love
To hate you.
I find no greater joy
Than tearing you down
And building you up again,
Like a broken figurine
That I can never quite
Reconstruct.
No matter how much
Time goes by.
No matter how much
Life I give.
I just can not seem
To make you right.
Perhaps it is not you
Who is unrefined?
But who am I to judge?
Copyright © 2008 Jarred Lee
I find you to be quite
Unrefined.
Dank, dark, dirty.
"Burn after
Reading."
"Wash hands after
Using."
I can easily have
Such thoughts of you,
Yet I can not seem
To push you out.
Have I been somehow
Tainted?
So greatly
Exposed?
Infected so profoundly
That I can see you
When my eyes are closed?
That memories of you
Can creep into my mind
At the worst possible moments?
Or possibly the best?
I do not quite know
Anymore.
All I seem to know
Is that I love
To hate you.
I find no greater joy
Than tearing you down
And building you up again,
Like a broken figurine
That I can never quite
Reconstruct.
No matter how much
Time goes by.
No matter how much
Life I give.
I just can not seem
To make you right.
Perhaps it is not you
Who is unrefined?
But who am I to judge?
Copyright © 2008 Jarred Lee
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Modest cruelty is still cruelty.
Abusive love. Not physical abuse, mind you, but mental abuse. That nagging kind of love that leaves you with the feeling that you are more of a project than a person. That hypocritical kind of love that lets you judge another without giving mind to your own actions. Someone will pop eventually...
Abusive love. Not physical abuse, mind you, but mental abuse. That nagging kind of love that leaves you with the feeling that you are more of a project than a person. That hypocritical kind of love that lets you judge another without giving mind to your own actions. Someone will pop eventually...
© 2008 - 2024 Itchitaka
Comments18
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I love the discomfort you leave in me. I love the paradox. The speaker blames him/herself without blaiming him/herself for behaving/saying/ ect. to his/her love. I wish I had more to say...but this one slightly puzzles me. And facinates me. I want to know why I feel discomfort, I suppose. It does connect to me on personal level but then it doesn't. It's really lovely...most especially for the oddness you made this reader feel.
Favorite stanza:
All I seem to know
Is that I love
To hate you.
It grounds the reader. I can relate most to this stanza...I think it's something the reader can understand the most. Or perhaps I am completely wrong...
Hope you are well,
Ai
Favorite stanza:
All I seem to know
Is that I love
To hate you.
It grounds the reader. I can relate most to this stanza...I think it's something the reader can understand the most. Or perhaps I am completely wrong...
Hope you are well,
Ai