“Me Merciful”

Fighting by your hands,

lingering in the stairwell.

My fists tucked between my thighs.

You breathing my breath,

stealing much more than my sunrise.

How did this happen?

Who is to blame?

Was it the night sky,

who brought us together?

Or was it the rain?

Caking my skin with marble,

encasing by your touch.

You were gone

before I had a chance to dry.

“Divide and Conquer”

Cross-legged in your basement,

arms outstretched.

You didn’t know I was there.

I heard,

your footsteps

puttering above my head.

Can you hear me?

Breathing,

on your neck,

but I wasn’t the one who put it there.

No,

I was in your attic,

lounging on some cans of blue spray paint.

I heard you singing,

in the shower beneath my feet.

I froze,

because she was there too.

Oh,

that just wouldn’t do.

I remembered the carving knife,

on your cutting board.

You should of seen my face just then,

lit up and glowing.

“Heartlines”

Red whispers,

clocks tied together with old arteries.

He wasn’t using them anymore.

Tick,

goes the clip,

caught under his silver tongue.

They were familiar with his work.

Tock,

a mother’s love,

tested with bullets and rage.

They never made it.

Tick,

a way to measure loyalty

to the bush outside his window,

and to the olive tree,

with its branches,

stroking the back of her neck.

“Let Me Have”

She was inside of him,

clutching his ribs for support.

He didn’t want her there.

She made him a machine,

a creature of habit.

This sad discord,

shifting to a loud quartet.

He dragged her to the bonfire

and the flames were screaming,

lonely and strange.

Her hair caught first,

then her rosebud mouth.

He fell to his knees.

The devil was watching.

“Afflicted”

Crossing the abyss,

where my heart sits,

waiting.

She’s weeping,

ugly,

her thick legs stretched in front of her.

Stabbed with pins,

arms behind her back.

She’s surrounded.

No beauty, just a beast.

Her eyes won’t leave my face.

She won’t give up.

I know that, because she’s mine.

What should I do?

Her eyes implore me.

Now I’m the one crying

diseased tears,

ruining,

running.

She doesn’t understand:

I can’t.

I can’t free her.

I’m not enough,

I never will be.

Can I learn to love,

the way I see?

A tightrope walk of shame,

to be vulnerable.

Her ugliness is a feat of pure strength.

I wish I was that sharp.