Sunday, August 28, 2016

pain is a poison
that sticks to the heart
and filters the eyes
so that whatever
we can't let go of
in the things we've left unsaid
cannot be cleansed
from festering in the mouth

but only wait in hiding
to ambush the first one
who penetrates the eyes
past what the automatic
brain receives
and ready to cut the throat
of the one to enter
the apocalypse
of our hearts

graffiti your grievances
in lipstick on your cracked
and fractured mirror

defile the virginity
of new paper
until it feels the carnage
of your pain
and the crisp white
is bloodied red

smear it
and tear it

baptize it's crucifixion
with your bitterest
of tears

exile it to the barrens
of a wasteland desert
where there are no witness
to summon its resurrection

burn it to ashes so fine
even the sand can't taste

but whatever you do
do not mistake
your opportunities
for release
by lashing the tender skin
of the one who creeps in
by chance
into the ransacked remnants
of the long abandoned home
that once housed the being
of your love

do not seek your revenge
or expect to find your healing
in play acting
with the innocent
by projection
and by force

singe your flesh
with the flames
of the incineration
of the demons you've ripped
from your own heart

expunge your eyes in kerosene
if that is what you must

then hide your scars
beneath crystal vases
filled with the flowers
grown from the excrement
of what you've shed
or hang the now closed wounds
up on your walls
without apologies

but whatever you do
be ready to greet
the gentle who wander in
as only what they are

and know because you have
set free the ashes
of what you never got to say
and because the wind has heard
and carried
those ancient wars away
you are free now
to sing new songs

to see with clear eyes

to move love
back into the empty walls
of the place you had to leave
so it may greet the truth
of the gift
of the one who has come
to make your heart
a home again

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