cut me open,
or just wait patiently while I sluff of all the important bits
of myself.
self depreciative
eventually I always fall
all the way apart
and surrounded
by those who took my heart
things often go missing.
My family is comprised of so many things
But for the sake of these themes
I can call them all thieves.
I'm nothing but the fading shadow
of who I was before
nothing but the fleading sounds
beating echoes
soft crasindoes
of wave on crashing shore
I used to fight the monsters inside men
I held my fist to
addictions caged in forgotten shells
that called themselves men
that called themselves urges
that called themselves
uncles,
sons,
sorry,
called themselves friends
called themselves
more names than
anyone could occupy in honesty all at once
all i saw was
an angry vacancy,
full of nothing
hiding in everything.
except for the children i hid behind me,
there light
showing me
always where I ought go.
always where I ought next step ,
nothing big enough to run from
big enough to fall to
with them behind me.
columns standing my heart up like a fold up tent,
the only tangible connection to
goodness,
to godliness,
to hope in my chest
to love
they were all the loveliness
I have ever possessed.
without them, I fear
simply the ever growing darkness,
the expanse in my chest,
this lost alone feeling,
of not knowing
where I ought step.
I only fear I will forget,
that the things I held so tight to
can actually exist.
I am not but a ship awaiting the wreck
my lighthouses
all
extinguished
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
cut me open,
or just wait patiently while I sluff of all the important bits
of myself.
self depreciative
eventually I always fall
all the way apart
and surrounded
by those who took my heart
things often go missing.
My family is comprised of so many things
But for the sake of these themes
I can call them all thieves.
I'm nothing but the fading shadow
of who I was before
nothing but the fleading sounds
beating echoes
soft crasindoes
of wave on crashing shore
I used to fight the monsters inside men
I held my fist to
addictions caged in forgotten shells
that called themselves men
that called themselves urges
that called themselves
uncles,
sons,
sorry,
called themselves friends
called themselves
more names than
anyone could occupy in honesty all at once
all i saw was
an angry vacancy,
full of nothing
hiding in everything.
except for the children i hid behind me,
there light
showing me
always where I ought go.
always where I ought next step ,
nothing big enough to run from
big enough to fall to
with them behind me.
columns standing my heart up like a fold up tent,
the only tangible connection to
goodness,
to godliness,
to hope in my chest
to love
they were all the loveliness
I have ever possessed.
without them, I fear
simply the ever growing darkness,
the expanse in my chest,
this lost alone feeling,
of not knowing
where I ought step.
I only fear I will forget,
that the things I held so tight to
can actually exist.
I am not but a ship awaiting the wreck
my lighthouses
all
extinguished
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