Writer. Fighter. Lover. Dreamer. The doctor's say she's generally functional.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

art for hell in art

An infinite loop of confusion,
Fingers tightly locked in conspiracy.
Each digit multiplied,
creating an impenetrable wall
with their sex.

They stole into every nook of her mind,
forming a dark web of deceit.
It was this that kept them alive; it was
 this that killed her.

I wrote this about an excel sheet I was working on. I wasn't enjoying it much, and struggling like hell. So I thought I'd have fun with it for a bit.

(romanticised data sheet much? Anyway, I like it. hehe.)


  1. This is great, I liked the idea that what feeds them kills her, that somewhere they are intrinsically linked and therefore dependant.
    Always interesting to have background infos on the birth of a poem. On a sidenote, I wonder what pushed you to capitalize some lines and not the other :)

  2. I hate working with excel, so I thought I wouldn't let my angst over working on it for the whole day go to waste. :P

    I'm not sure why either, hadn't noticed why some were capitalised and others weren't. Will have to think about that; there must be a reason :)

    Thank you again for your comments x