Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

rust re: rain

simultaneous gratitude and spite
a train of string, spit and rite
moving mountains with slow cookers
chasing, dry-mouthed and parched
silent shadows of the desert

'why did you make me this way?'
questions tongued to a sky so far
high and indifferent
storms churning on to seed greener pastures
eyes glass, floating and searching
seeing everything but finding nothing
but the Titanic, lidless,
creaking agony of living
much less the bliss:
the cold spray and whip-lightning
of being alive
braced against barn walls and blast doors.

when I opened my eyes, there you were
speechless, I drowned in your embrace, melting pure and clean again
breaking every single sine wave promise to myself
folded into a will so many layers tempered
yet so brittle as a child's toy run against the rocks.

flayed with muse and left to die
Into breech and void climbed I
a crucible of vice and sin
could never kill this heart again
Never hide nor maim nor bury
this piece of you from when we married
and when we parted, ebbed away
I sandblasted and ground away
all pieces bearing our two names
but as it happened, yours did stay.

'i fucking still love you
you made me
I need you'

To which your reply isĀ 
a subtle, comforting squeeze
an inviting tilt of your neck
falling inches, feeling miles
thru a minute not quite long enough
even if it approached forever.

many a ballad have been written by the rust about

jaimeson's rogues (bad: 08/20/2016) ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message