Ill Depicted Mirrors

Written December of 2013

I damn well didn't succeed

but I sure as hell tried

to pry open your chest

and allow myself inside.

What I found, no wires

only brittle chords 

leading to what's barely beating

I braced myself for the cold.

I'd take all of my breath

and push it from my screaming lungs

to keep the chill from staining

even more of your already frozen tongue.

I used all of my energy

yet, 

the paint frosts over new

your air pipes open wide

and a gust of stale smoke blows through.

My hands search through the fog

hoping to find a Polaroid of me 

but all I find are empty frames

and ill directed mirrors

that depict none other but 

the fog

and a note reading "apathy."

I want to tear that note

and scribble something new

but with all of my might

I can't seem to pull it out from you

and collapse down onto the concrete floor

with the skin peeled from my knees

and damaging internal soars.

Will it be different one day?

Do I have the strength

to steal your demons

and force them away?

Maybe I've only created my own

and I spent all of my strength

on fighting for you.

Now I'm simply a ghost in this fog

though haunting

is something 

I will not do.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem had a lot of hidden story.
"Do I have the strength
to steal your demons
and force them away?"
I like the honest tone and the want to assist. Fighting demons is a internal fight. I like the strong ending. No-one can stand alone. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Kahtia Howard]

Thank you for reviewing and I'm glad you liked the poem! It's always been difficult for me accept that fighting demons is an internal fight no matter how much I wish to be able to help fight them away.