She was never beautiful

on my account

she just

was

Add caption

 

unspoken words

unspoken words

lying on the counter

sharp as steak knives and

ready to cut in

hearts still rare

as the timer goes off

diseased from the slaughterhouse

stench of rancid roast

turn off the lights and

leave me at the table

i’ll put the kids to bed while he’s

halfway down your throat

think i’ll add some more artwork

to the hallway by our bedroom

some knuckles in the drywall

maybe a heart completely bled

a way in

depression’s not a rash

and suicide’s not a cover

you can try to cut it out

the blade hits your skin

like a one-car crash

but there’s nothing to find

just flesh and more flesh

accomplishing only a

greater loss of self

how much blood has to drain

for a weakness to panic

and finally ask for help

how close to nothing

have you come

go ahead

cut again

but ask us to be with you

so we can be there when you

open up

and we’ll finally have 

a way in

i’m looking at your lips

and thinking all around them

wishing they would say something

anything

or a kiss

and you are here

a simple thing

and in a distant cloud

beginning

thunder claps

and lightning leaps

a millisecond mile

to start the fire

  do you know love?

  its all embracing power

you beautiful

you dangerous

  do you know love?

i saw god in a smile

in a smirk

in a look of intensity

in an innocent disguise

god was ashamed

god was frightened and alone

god was a sudden crush of

sadness and tears

god was my healing

when i needed it most

and the good feel of

being together with you

and your touch

and your kiss

and your pulling me close

and everything

alive

and real

and now

all my love lie fast asleep

a kiss began the undertow

for i would not allow those lips

the slightest chance to act their own

all my love gave in to sigh

as deep as any sea-born breeze

as gentle as the changing tide

obeys the moon but longs to seize

 

love is

love is a rose in a field 

full of flowers

a carnival of color

a garden of fresh feelings

longing to bloom

and only a fragment of me

in the garden of you

possessing a poetic heart

is both a blessing

and

a punishment