Tuesday, May 8, 2018

maniac heartbreak

the rain deconstructs on its own
the limbs of trees, wings of bees
birds that have flown

why fail here
when i am offering it all
hairy leg, shaking fingers, limp hair

buried in the ground there is
a reminder
not like bone, nothing as new as flesh

but a glass bottle perhaps,
a broken glass
something broken

i dig it up easily
soil now mud
and hold the thing hard,

i will deconstruct myself,
i will bleed at my own request
my own power.

and the blood makes
such pretty little rivelets
down my wet wrist

curling and thinning to pink
around my arm
like the bracelet i wanted for Christmas.

although you do not love me
you will feel something hard
and now it begins.

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