Untitled

Untitled

He has bones that stretch his thin skin
To bits and his body doesn�t fit
And against his slim fingers he presses
His hand until the bones crack
And he creaks when he walks like a gate
Too afraid to open, but he knows better
Than to let himself stay shut out
He arms questions like bullets into
His six shot mouth and gulps them down

And she presses her hands against his lean body
She can feel both his heartbeat to know he is lying
And his lungs moving, inflating with the oxygen
That he�s claiming to need her just as much as
And maybe it�s true he might turn blue without her

He has lines that slip into your head
And his very presence suggests
That this is something you�ve wanted
Worst of all his movements express
All the things you know you�ll regret
Words barely escape from his lips
They fall twice silent before falling out
And quiet as they seem to be they sink
With the weight of a stone throw into the sea
Escaping smooth

He has bones that stretch his thin skin
Crashed to bits against her promises
And against his slim fingers he presses
The cap to water bottle while staring
With closed eyes into the blue television screen
Where a movie once was playing
But now only the echoes words of Paul Simon flow out
Of the surround sound speakers that barricade his ears
Keep him pressed against the pillow and his fears
And he takes a sip, wishes it was something that burnt
And against his slim fingers he presses
Her hand

Reviews

[Bubo]

Such fabulous imagary!
Really loved the vivid portrayal of this man...................but no full stops?!
Was not sure if its intentional with no full stops and capitals in odd places...........but it restricts the
flow................