Run Away From Water

Run Away From Water

A Poem by Scott Lee

I run exhausted tracks
I Used the burn to pull me up
Scribbling words for another chance to flash brightly across the universe.

Get lost
I'm writing about the under dog
And the victory of wounds.

Get lost
I'm trying to break through
Stubborn concrete.
I buried gold down there
But I forgot where I put it.

She skated in my heart
A thousand icicles trying to hide the Sun's refracted light.

Her frost chained me to nothing
As the sun came out
I melted and dripped away from all the branches.
I haven't been right since.
Never the same again.
She nailed me to a fence,
Poured lamb's blood on my head,
Then released a lion.

Come and get me killer.

I still feel mighty jaws bite into my skin, tear me back to ground, flip me over, rip it all apart, your rejection opens up a silo. I aim the monster at myself just to end your voice. An endless march I cannot stop no matter what I do.

You cannot imagine
What I've done to keep you close to me.

Too many thoughts I put in prison.

I die down gutters every day.
Lost the flair of myself.

Changed from happy
Into solemn silence

I hang myself above a fire
Keep me roasted for another year.
Tear me down into pebbles
Throw me away beyond all reaches.

Nothing is the same.

I lost your Friendship and all prizes.

I feel a death I can never speak.

This gulf between you and I
is
Too immense to measure.

It feels like you burned my favorite book right in front of me and laughed forever into my wound. Dug your pointed fingernails into my eyes
And made me blind.

The words run black forever.

A harsh vacancy to such a precious place as this.

You destroyed a universe with a silent silo.

I catch fire and run away from water.
It only makes sense to me.
I like to feel the pain of your absence.
I run alone through this mansion.
I miss the things that once you smiled at.
So simple on your lips.
No detection of return.
Blackened crisp
And taxed between
I offer love before the fire
I feel the flames and run from water.
No safety or reprisal
There's still a softness in the bristles
That I'm hiding now forever.
It's detrimental to my survival
Not sure that I can breathe
I'm choking on biting silence
And coughing on annihilation.

A city on fire
That runs away from water
It only makes sense to me.

I keep you resting in all rememberance

I scream silence into distance
Create a university for your studies
I hunt the shadows behind the pillars
You walk hallways past broken doors.
I see my favorite words go up in smoke, bleeding out from ruin, no time to run for water.

My wish:
A machine to change the past, got one?

I run exhausted tracks
On fury's fire
I do not run for water
It only makes sense to me.

I can do nothing but die in gutter,
You hurt me beyond all belief.
No way station in this desert
I keep my head down
And wait for rain.

Even though I know it's gone
And won't come back

I still can
Only hear the water
Playing like pure torture by your distance.

No pen or paper left for rewrites
The wasted match book lies close to ashes
The hollow ghost walks alone
In mansions
Set on fire
By numbing hands
It's way too dangerous to touch me now.
My desert fire is contagious
Your icy tundra melts to water
But I run for brighter hands.
I told you before and I'll tell you again
It only makes sense to me so do not follow close and please run back toward the water.

Get lost

I'm writing about the under dog
And the victory of wounds.

I am safe in this claustrophobic closet
Don't worry.
You will not see me again
I burn another day
To run away from water
And run full speed into fire.

Tomorrow will rise so soon.
Resistance is futile
The good news is nothing lasts forever.

If you've ever been on fire
To run away from water
Then we both know
How it spreads so fast
Fire, pain and ashes
Poof, gone like that
A tiny flair of paper
Risen
in
Stormy winds
Now vanished
Into forever
And
if not then,
Well,
It only makes sense to me.




© 2015 Scott Lee


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Added on February 11, 2015
Last Updated on February 13, 2015

Author

Scott Lee
Scott Lee

Ashland, OR



About
If now and then we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound, sears, tears, groans, and curses, know they came from a man with his back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words, and his w.. more..

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