The heart-breaking buoyancy of all this
Dead skin and liquid I shed from
My mind smells like a cross between
Bonfire and a bowel movement, and like
The latter it's a regular thing, a part of life
That's unpleasant but seems to be necessary.
Only there's no jokes or funny sounding words
Concerning my daily removal of a thin
Layer of confidence that's replaced by
A hard-to-crack shell that lets in only
Slim amounts of light and happiness.
I know the hammer I left for you to swing
Is unspeakably heavy and a burden to bear,
But when I see you raise it up it's easier
For me to let love split it and start to break free.
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