#butstill
After
the explosion
I found
pieces of you
in all my poems,
embedded shrapnel,
unclean words,
full of fever's fester.
I scrubbed the wounds,
massaged the scars,
repeating,
autumn is a doctor,
winter is a nurse,
night's blue sky body
arches over
the surgery of the gods,
poppy-soft, ocean-deep, capable
of illuminating
even
your lies.
~October 2013,
revised May 2014
Aug 13, 2025
Aug 13, 2025 at 10:55 AM UTC
This will be the last time I will lie this close to you
It hasn't been an easy ride; we are both weary and broken
Tired and detached from each other's hearts
Forever hopeless
I think it is time to lay down the fragmented pieces of our love
On the bed of roses we built so long ago
Because honey, we only shared thorns pricking our fingers, shed tears craving freedom and whisper words in each of our ears
To soothe the guilt and regret haunting us in our every living breath
Still, we reflect each other's brokenness so perfectly
I bleed with your pain, you die with my tremendous sadness
I caress your hair with my bruised hand
And you heal my soul by trading yours to melancholy
We are perfect, aren't we?
That is why I choose to suffer in silence
If that means to heal you
Then I choose to die by your side
If that means I will never be alone mourning my brokenness
Then everyday will be the last time I will lie this close to you
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 6:11 AM UTC