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Nov 2019
Broken knuckles on my left hand
and spotty bruises on my right,
I left my brain on the coat stand
night after night.
And I was tongue tied with flushed cheeks
thank god for the absence of light,
and in the patterns of your tear streaks
you stamped my name so I’d be sure to catch sight.

Lying on damp grass that still died,
perched on top; we are the dew.
To resuscitate all life we helplessly tried,
but there wasn’t a single chance, it’s sad but it’s true.

Let go of the character
and slide back to the dancing shadows.
I fought tooth and nail to take care of her,
and still it’s I they trot to the gallows.
I’m clearly not MCauly Caulkin,
but I’ve been left stranded home alone.
No silly robbers are going to walk in,
instead it’s the absence that breaks each bone.

The stars are currently spelling out my regrets
and that is the real reason they are infinite and endless.
Whether lost lives, loves, chances, friends or bets,
I’ve got strong arms and even I’m not sure I could mend this.

You can pick up a brick and throw it through a glass pane,
or you can look for others to make a home.
I’ve been stacking my share without a thought in my brain,
I crave some structure but trapped myself in the dome.

I carelessly ripped out every seam and stitching,
I was assigned batting position but I’ve been aimlessly pitching.
My mind is racing and my hands are twitching,
my emotions are pacing but my pen’s tired of my *******.
“It was your mercy that killed the king.”
Em MacKenzie
Written by
Em MacKenzie  35/F/Ottawa
(35/F/Ottawa)   
469
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