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X-Men: The Movie

Stories by Trisha L. Sebastian

"Touch"
Rogue explains the confusion and mental trauma when she absorbs someone else's memories. Poem.

E-mail:: tls@thekeep.org

Web site: The Keep

Summary:  A poem about Marie, the Movie-verse Rogue
Disclaimer:  The characters I refer to are not my property, but the property of Marvel Entertainment.  I'm not making any profit off of this little poem.  Blanket archival rights go to Kielle; anyone else must ask me first.  Special thanks go to JB McDragon for betas on demand at San Diego ComiCon sitting with Wolf and Monte at Jaci's booth.  Damn, that was fun.


Touch

It starts with a tingle
And then a flood of
Memory fills my head.
Alien thoughts fill each corner nook,
Cranny their way deep inside.
I try and I try, but I can't keep them out.
They're the sea,
And I'm a sandbar.
They wash over me,
I slip away,
And I become someone else.

I'm a boy.
I've got this crush on a girl.
She's pretty cute.
We've known each other for years.
She can be a real snob sometimes,
Sticking her nose in the air
And laughing with all her snooty friends.
I'm trying out for the basketball team.
I hope I'm gonna make it.
And we kissed
And it was heaven
And it was hell--

I'm a nurse.
I touched for just a second
Because she was distraught over the boy.
Sometimes I wish
I could do what they
Do in the movies
And haul off and slap these
Infuriating people
Who tell me how to do my job.
Jenkins on the third floor
Particularly needs a right cross.
But I'm digressing,
And my memory's fading...

I'm her mother
And I'm her father.
Why did this have to happen to our girl?
We've been good parents.
We don't hit her.
We don't abuse her.
But you're the one that took that temp position at that weird pharmacy.
But you're the one who told me to get the job.
We needed the money, but not that badly.
The doctors don't know how it happened, so there's no use yelling at me like this.
This isn't my fault,
This isn't my fault.
It's hers--

I'm never alone now
With these voices inside my head,
These people living with me.
So many different people
That I forget
Who they were
And who I'm supposed to be.

 


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