He is Drowned
Contours of chest holding hollow air
Silent as empty promise
Buried along side broken glass.
The muck between his ears, distant.
Easily forgotten
Now my neurons fire like tangled thread
Bottles drained
Each sip twisting meanings
I must be worthless
These hands were bread to serve
To save
There is worth in salvation
If it is all that I have left
I will deliver it to him
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
He is Drowned
Contours of chest holding hollow air
Silent as empty promise
Buried along side broken glass.
The muck between his ears, distant.
Easily forgotten
Now my neurons fire like tangled thread
Bottles drained
Each sip twisting meanings
I must be worthless
These hands were bread to serve
To save
There is worth in salvation
If it is all that I have left
I will deliver it to him
Request permission to use this poem