Bubble Gum

Underneath the dinner table,
Knees to her chest
She buries her face into her body.
A throw away shell she has once again
In an inventive new manner.
She was a rookie when 
She crawled up that pant leg
And hid in that pocket.
She posed as 
Raspberry flavored bubble gum.
Never a question
As to where she came from
She was needed to kill the bitter 
Taste in that mouth
Left behind
From that same old
Stale meal-
The everyday engagement 
That had become harder
And harder, to stomach.
She noted how it 
Took a while 
For the taste to fade…
But all the “real world” proofs
And facts that base 
What would logically 
Come to pass next 
Were irrelevant to her.
What she wanted then was
The caress of those words
Words that had been locked up.
The imprisoned words that
Ached like hell
To be released.
For they mingled
Well with her flavor.
She wrapped herself 
Around that tongue,
And wanted it
To never end.
She swam in the words 
Of that charming mouth.
She made the taste of the day
A little bit sweeter.
And the hollowness of hers
Became a whole lot more full.
But it was only
A breath,
Hot air in her bubble.
And then that jaw
Got tired of chewing
On her rubber 
Washed out flavor-
And thus,
She was of service no more.
So, she was quickly spat
From the uncaring mouth.
She’d flown or landed,
Was not a concern.
And the next time
She crawled up that pant leg,
She was shaken off.
And the next time she posed
As raspberry flavored bubble gum,
Se ended up a mess…
Stuck to some shoe.
And now here she is,
Posing as a shadowy goo;
Underneath this tabletop…
Hoping she might accidentally
Be touched,
Despite what a disgusting thing
That she has become
Withered away and hardened
In a sticky hollow shell;
A sickly wrapped up pose
Of a hardened mess
I’ve mimicked 
Way too long.



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