Posts Tagged ‘regret

14
Dec
12

Hurt


It hurts. 

I don't need you
to tell me. 

I know
the word
for it. 

I know my word for it. 
I regret learning it from you. 
I regret repeating it out loud. 
I regret coming back to it. 
It is my fault.
I made it my word. 
Now I hurt. 

I don't need 
you to tell me. 

It will hurt
even worse. 

It will hurt even worse. 
It will hurt worse than childbirth. 
It will hurt worse than growing old. 
It will hurt worse than death
after death after death. 

I know the word for it. 

It will hurt worse than that. 
It won't stop hurting. 
It can't stop hurting. 
It will hurt and hurt and hurt
and it will hurt you 
and it will hurt him
and it will hurt me even worse. 

It is my fault.
I made it my word. 

Now I hurt. 

24
Apr
12

Help Me Cry


     See but those thick clouds go scattering.
     This storm wants to pass me on by.
          Rain sure does me good
          nowhere near as it should
     when it can't even help me cry.
     
     I wanted the flood to come take me down.
     I wanted to drown, I won't lie.
          Of most consequence
          is what makes the least sense
     when no heartbreak can help me cry.
     
     I keep looking every which way half expecting
     I'll miss it. What's wrong with this sky?
          Have I lost all control
          to burnt visions I stole
     thinking vision might help me cry?
     
     My sky oughtn't be so quiet and empty,
     at least not like my doctors imply
          to be needed to heal,
          when the cure most ideal
     is that void that would help me cry.
     
     So I'm damned if I sacrifice nothing we'd save
     but then saved if I let myself die?
          It sucks I'll not get
          my face one bit wet
     by a drama that can't help me cry.
     
     Come back! Black horizon, come back to me
     in the fold of a sunset bled dry
          of all meaning, all gain,
          all compassion, all pain,
          all intention, all that's sane,
          all that raises its eye to the rain
     on my own alone to myself to help me cry.
     
     David's here with me, been so all along,
     so I'm told. He won't tell me why.
          But how can I give
          him what death had to live
     through to get love to help me cry?
     



formal attire

short of breath

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