Monday, January 24, 2011

The Book

You
read between my lines,
like you're scouring a novel.
Pick apart metaphors,
my sentence structure,
turn my contradictions,
speak the words unspoken.
Deconstruct me,
black ink fading from the page,
wall of words, crumbling.
Leaving me read,
critiqued,
examined,
debunked,
like a dime-store novel.

4 comments:

Linda said...

Amazed. Again.
I don't know how you write like this, but I'm glad you do.

Brian Miller said...

nice...i want to be read like that...each line consumed...to know and be known...great write...

Melinda Owens said...

Thanks Linda and Brian...it's nice to be read. :) (Pun fully intended)

Unknown said...

Damn, girl.

I'm glad you write, too...