letter poem assignment: Mr. Doom
Nov. 2nd, 2005 01:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sarahmichiganDear Mr. Doom,
Your voice so quiet, so sweet, so sibilant, I thought for a long time it was my own. Your hideous suggestions of inadequacy, unloveableness, unworthiness, are wedged in my brain, like dirt under fingernails.
My twitching eye, my twisting gut, my galloping heart all belong to you, Mr. Doom. Insidious, treacherous— you're a poisonous lover. The more I tell you to get out of my life, the harder you cling to me.
But now, I know all about you, Mr. Doom, all the tricks you're up to, the games you play. You tell me there's something wrong when there isn't, until the paranoia wins and I create that which I dread.
I can sweat you out or breathe you out slowly, sometimes. But I've noticed that weed is your friend. When I'm high, every siren wail is you in a uniform with a gun coming to get me. Alcohol and sleep provide only a temporary respite. Sometimes you even invade my dreams, and I awake with heart pounding.
Maybe I can't get you to leave, Mr. Doom, but I can stop listening. Whisper all you like. Shout even. I'll stick my fingers in my ears and la la la, I'll sing my own tune, now.
Sincerely,
Me
(cross-posted to 13 Blackbirds)
Your voice so quiet, so sweet, so sibilant, I thought for a long time it was my own. Your hideous suggestions of inadequacy, unloveableness, unworthiness, are wedged in my brain, like dirt under fingernails.
My twitching eye, my twisting gut, my galloping heart all belong to you, Mr. Doom. Insidious, treacherous— you're a poisonous lover. The more I tell you to get out of my life, the harder you cling to me.
But now, I know all about you, Mr. Doom, all the tricks you're up to, the games you play. You tell me there's something wrong when there isn't, until the paranoia wins and I create that which I dread.
I can sweat you out or breathe you out slowly, sometimes. But I've noticed that weed is your friend. When I'm high, every siren wail is you in a uniform with a gun coming to get me. Alcohol and sleep provide only a temporary respite. Sometimes you even invade my dreams, and I awake with heart pounding.
Maybe I can't get you to leave, Mr. Doom, but I can stop listening. Whisper all you like. Shout even. I'll stick my fingers in my ears and la la la, I'll sing my own tune, now.
Sincerely,
Me
(cross-posted to 13 Blackbirds)
