Lightening Bearer's Rod

To be radiant. 

That unnamed glow. 

Every pixel of your soul, 

Aligned,  

Pressing against every bump on the back of your throat, 

Piercing through the crevices of your cold crisp smile. 

Leaking through your carcass, 

To create, 

To create that one-of-a-kind, 

Canvas;

Spread against the grain of four, light, pillars of wood. 

Solid and soft. 

Stretched so thin it feels you may tear, 

but yet,

So loose, it feels the paint may not stick. 

I do not know it anymore. 

Each time I try, 

I feel that stretch, 

That stretch in my throat, 

In my voice. 

That stretch that feels like static in the middle of a skipping disk, 

Across a velvet black screen. 

It’s that moment you know. 

It’s what you crave. 

Yet, impossible to claim. 

He will always illuminate it

But never say it. 

He won’t say it through his fingers, 

Running across the goosebumps of your back, 

All your vulnerabilities exposed. 

You laugh through your lips,

But not through your teeth. 

That joke he has made, 

Crumbles your bones, 

And shatters the lids of your eyes,

Each, 

And every time that you blink. 

That lump in your throat,

That stretch, 

Fades into the pillow, 

And your coconut shampoo remains in the air. 

You hold back those tears. 

You know that one drop, 

Will bring it down,

Like a thunderstorm drumming on a rusty old paint can. 

He does not know,

That behind that blink, 

That shackles and rattles everything you know, 

There is radiance. 

There is you. 

Author's Note

first poem ever! please review!