My darling,
I know what it is to cry from the soul.
To heave forth the broken bits of yesterday
Left behind
For someone brave to pick it up
In despair for the loss
I know what it is to feel everything at once
Without so much as a fleeting glance toward all it takes from you.
Supple child’s faces
Hard like stone
Against the cold of reality,
Of knowing.
Of understanding.
I know what it is to wish for nothing
And sob for something you know
Will never be recovered,
It’s some lost letter long purged,
Into a fireplace somewhere warm now…
It’s home now.
I know how it feels to be empty.
I know how it feels to love the sun,
To love it with all of your being.
To let it take you, because the burns feel so nice.
The blisters.
They feel alive, don’t they?
I know the mothers mourning.
I know the fathers who face the day they must challenge themselves.
The children chided for wishing there were something to salvage.
If I could, my sweet, my crisp cool morning air
In May, on the way to the market"
I would take it.
I would give my legs, my arms, my sight…
To keep this with me.
For while this is sacred, this is chaste,
It is a relic heavy with black.
With dark things,
I hope your soul is never marred.
But this will take me, as sure as the bright, wondrous sky blackens,
And ‘All I Am’ will be
‘All I Was’
Slides thirty-five millimeter
Flashing the story of what was
For what comes next.
Blessed be those few born under crossed stars
Who must carry the weight of a million men on their shoulders.
For while it is a noble thing to cry for oneself,
it just seems so simple…
When you have cried for the world.
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