There's room for your every
Blade between my ribs.
I have a thousand other
Cheeks to turn when
You need to fling
Frustration from the channels
Of your heart's palms.
I can take all your punches.
I am a statue to your weathers.
I am the sound of handfulls of
Dirt and pebbles against an empty
Casket. I can take out my every
Nerve, my heart, my pain centre
And place it in a pocket; take it
All back out when you need to
Dillute your tears with mine
Over some matter that weighs
Heavy on the hearts of little
Girls playing with big boys; falling
From swings designed for
Denser bones and hands rough
From climbing. I am the teddy
Bear missing an eye and a limb,
Exposing stuffing through seams
Torn from being dragged over
Stairs and through sandboxes,
Always a thump behind little legs
That carry love for it, unequal to
Any.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:25 AM UTC
There's room for your every
Blade between my ribs.
I have a thousand other
Cheeks to turn when
You need to fling
Frustration from the channels
Of your heart's palms.
I can take all your punches.
I am a statue to your weathers.
I am the sound of handfulls of
Dirt and pebbles against an empty
Casket. I can take out my every
Nerve, my heart, my pain centre
And place it in a pocket; take it
All back out when you need to
Dillute your tears with mine
Over some matter that weighs
Heavy on the hearts of little
Girls playing with big boys; falling
From swings designed for
Denser bones and hands rough
From climbing. I am the teddy
Bear missing an eye and a limb,
Exposing stuffing through seams
Torn from being dragged over
Stairs and through sandboxes,
Always a thump behind little legs
That carry love for it, unequal to
Any.
