MANGLED STITCHES

I wipe the ashes from my hands
I am but a spectator in this fruitless land
l Put out the embers from the cuff of my jeans
here I see and never intervene your unhappy vision
my shoe soles soft crossing your burnt bridges
though you are happiest in your dreams,
I sidestep your path collecting your unanswered wishes
and drink the blood from your ravenous streams
your treasure chest empty of riches,
your love dismissive like a tyrant queen
left to your divisive schemes
the lonely doll left in the corner
with mangled stitches.

Author's Note

I once knew a girl who was bi-polar and her moods shifted considerably, sometimes to the point of bitterness, this is the bitterness...

Reviews

[biggerthenu]

nice piece i see it clearly and we all choose our path and that equals or faint in life and to be a true friend in the fruitless land is hard and a treasure its self and to have burnt down the bridges that you two once had and cross it again speaks wonders but to be able to wash your hands clean nice write

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

The imagery here is stunning. Love truly is a battlefield.

[Larry Dyson]

excellent tale woven in a tapestry of doubt and fear and dismissive wishes...I like it a lot Rene...