placeholder for something darker II (03/25/2020)

the long and loping ache
of the seizing loop called 
Aorta 
crimped by a lifetime 
of sacrifice to the dogs
of electrochemistry: 
wrung beats from the feverish sweat
of bedmates and 
those kinds of friendships that die in shared smoke
Rising: fragile broken birds
whose abalone pieces remain
imprinted christmases on my blood 
trading one tether for another
to let loose and limp 
the warm traumas of a liquid innocence
second-best when bought

and my ailing heart reminds: 
it wasn't all for naught

breathing 
short and hollow 
from the hallowed zenith 
halted, a trickling fingertip away 
from what life could've been
(Or at least what it could've felt like)

I'd be lying if i said it felt like you knew me

◄ you can probably guess the title, there's a theme going here (03/09/2020)

atlantic/s (03/28/2020) ►

Comments

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John Bastard

Sun 29th Mar 2020 13:31

and yeah, Keith

you nailed it

;

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John Bastard

Sat 28th Mar 2020 18:37

hi guys

Thank you for reading me. It means a lot right now

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keith jeffries

Sat 28th Mar 2020 00:03

The word aorta stands out in this poem as being the significant valve by which life is generated and on which it takes its toll.

Thank you for this
Keith

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Paul Sayer

Fri 27th Mar 2020 23:45

I like your style Zach.

Great poem
Po

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