I’m no God but neither is he.
He doesn’t hold her the same.
His hands are heavy and every time.
Every time he touches her hips she bruises.
His kisses are rushed.
They take no breath.
But take my heart from it’s bird cage chest and sail it out to sea.
Set alight by the one piece of fire that still lights to ward of demons and ghosts.
Watch on as the ship drifts with out a paddle.
Made from twigs taken from the tree I planted when she first stole my smile and claimed it as hers.
And it still is hers. Everything is still hers.
But the is tree gone.
Chopped down by the axe made from the happiness that wasn’t mine and probably never was.
I know I drink to much.
It’s because I have this habit of places humans above humans.
When we are no more than the electric connections we share in our hearts.
There is all this rain always in my head.
That’s slowly dousing my fire inside.
Please by my fire wood.
Fire wood to fuel this song.
Keep my soul turned to win and the worlds problems flowing along my veins,
Until I can take no more and they burst.
Spilling love and nothing but on the ground.
Planting gardens and flowers where graveyards once grew.
Every night I’m forced to sow my fingers closed.
Stop the blood slipping through the gaps.
But it finds it’s way through the holes in my palms that I got from standing on the cross.
Taking crossfire from jealous hearts.
And if we all collected the sheets from every time we shared loved with some we didn’t love.
The world would never freeze over.
The homeless and alone could be housed by linen and silk.
Forever warmed by our mistakes.
poem by Krisitan Brunker
Thank you, Mr. Brunker, for your submission.
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Labels: dark, deep, emotion, emotional, mysterious, picture, poem, poetry, unique