Some Things Real

In a home built

From empty rooms

Walls made of words

You left the door wide shut

For better days or worse

You left the best that dies in all of us

A roof sealed high against my head

Drew out the inhumanity

Perhaps our walks as well

Dark sheets

Paper made from paper’s poison

Throwing me to the inkwell bottom

Staircase after staircase

Hammered my damaged past,

We bound one other to each other

Shivering

Burning in flames only I was borne to feel

But then the blister of youth

To keep the sun from dying

The notes from notes repeating

Strumming on a blue pentatonic stream

Songs meant for air

But you didn’t care

Everything tries in death their best

Everything tries to survive their survival

Washing my ribs as you locked the doors

Together

On a flat sad freeway

The wounds call back their creator,

They triumph through abuse

Dissembling the bones from the cartilage

I stand a drop in rain

You, a word misplaced

But I know now how it takes the life away

How it takes a stage from its pen

Looking for a wilder shoulder to tame

A reliance inescapable

Crying out sins over touch,

The way you raised our all

Squandering delirium rage

No acute psychosis can drown you now

Fears stays rooted to the grave

Bullets, freckle to their path

Nothing tears a womb like a broken start,

A promise to your fallen angel,

A pledge

Again then again for

Something to feel

Something over the death of this-

This silent house

Where you left the doors wide shut.

Reviews

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

Here I am again at another part of my day, typing things I wont remember tomorrow. I have now laughed and cried at this. Ive lost words and thoughts but still i walk back to the door. its almost as if your spring is gravitational.My hearing is rippled with time ..baby crying...peoples voices...things falling. Maybe I need to move on. maybe Ill be back to scream it out....maybe

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

the doors slam shut because the windows hear them coming.....

[Perdition]

Not screaming into the constant current is a life long disease. You hear it from inside and it teases your climb over the stairwells opening, until you can open completely into something real. Thanks and wonderful trying to keep pace with these poetic reviews...hope they stand the candle~