The Heart That Aches

There is a scrape in this heart that aches:
Festoons of bloody tissue and leathery hate
Like plumage on a wild bird or burlesque girl
Springs forth from the gaping gash, curling

Licking, biting and snarling, chasing up the skin
Freckles like ash and eyes ember. This is our sin.

There is a stake in this heart that aches:
Broken from the branch of our friendship tree
Dividing the ribs like Moses did the Red Sea

Guts clawing their way up, beggars for light
Cross-shaped and vile with wood that cuts deep
Religion does not save us; we do not sleep.

There is a break in this heart that aches:
Watch it grow with widespread arms and legs
Watch it twitch and jangle like a marionette
Listen as it sings lullabies of griefs and fears
Listen as it snaps the chords and bindings tear
We cannot be saved; we are not there.

There is a quake in this heart that aches:
And it is louder than the humming of lungs and brain
And more numbing than the tick of death’s untimely clock
This vibration whispers as it whirrs: fool and child
Forsaken by man and woman alike; how dare you live still
While beloved compresses roll in their graves, rotting, ill.

There is a snake in this heart that aches:
And I am its reflection.

Reviews

[Jordyn]

Beautiful. No words.

[M.L McDonough]

Thanks so much!