No. 36

Twisted Halo

They say I’m not supposed to feel

I feel there’s really nothing real

Is it bad?

In every bed it’s all I said

“It stains the sheets but pays the rent"

Is it bad?

Touch me…touch me, please…

Touch me…touch me, please…

They say I’m not supposed to care

The scars and broken bones are there

It’s been done

Some of them are cavalier

They kiss my hands and lips of steel

but its been done

Touch me…touch me, please…

Touch me…touch me, please…

Touch me…touch me …

I am my own protection

I am my own salvation

Fom the things that are part of what I’ve become…

This isn’t something I would cry about

A little secret whispered all too loud…
That’s not my conscience speaking

That’s not my heart that’s bleeding

That’s not my body

my broken body…my broken body screaming…

Touch me…touch me, please…

Touch me…touch me, please…

Touch me…touch me…touch me…touch me…

Touch me…touch me, please…

A former officemate and friend, Elle, called me up at home a couple of days ago wanting to meet up for breakfast. Weird really, since he called me up around 11:00 am...waaaaay past breakfast hour.

Anyway, she now works for another company- another call center. Crap. So it does seem that people who have resigned from being call center agents may have difficulty leaving the field.

DAMN.

Anyway, she also informed me that my artwork, "The Anatomy of a Call Center Agent" has reached her office email group.

So apparently my work has been elevated to office spam.

Amusing.