New Poetry

But Such a Sweet Sixteen

I have a pain in my heart
My empty, black heart
A rock
Has been swallowed by my fear
And now resides
Deep inside
Grinding against the walls
The soft tissue
The blood will not flow
And I fear
It will mean my death

It pulses
As nothing does
And in public
I must hide my face
Lest someone see the effect it has

But it seems so obvious
Wearing it beneath my clothes
Like a despicable growth
And even now it begs to be fed

It surges at my touch
And even the slimmest of thoughts
The barest of images
Seems to provoke it

Even now
This simple conversation
Has flared this fire to life
And I yearn
So much
To be free of it

I did not ask for this
The lessons were taught
But they did not prepare me for this
The lessons were learned
But they were incomplete
And surely my failure cannot be solely mine

If they had but told…
If they had but shared…
If they had but known…
But, ah, they would have to know
And they do not

And so I dealt with this sickness
The surest way I knew how
And instead of cutting and tearing it from my flesh
I embraced it and learned to love it.
And learned to covet the touch.



The Well and the Being

I did not know her long
But I knew her well
I did not know her deeply
But I loved her so
And though we had not the time
To share as much as I would have liked
It was more than enough
But it is not enough
And I miss her deeply
And when I think of her
Tears drift to my eyes
And my heart breaks
With a pain that can not be determined
For it simply bears down on my heart
And drags my body with it
My ribs turn to iron
Incasing my lungs
My limbs freeze and seize
And I do not think I can continue

For I did not know her long
But I loved her deeply

She allowed me
Like no other I have known
To put aside my concerns so surely
That I forget they were even there
For a longer time than any other distraction allowed

And for this gracious blessing
This divine gift
She asked nothing in return
But an open ear and my presence
Who before has ever requested that?

And the memories
I can still hear her laugh
And I can still laugh
At the good times
Before the pain hits
In a wave of heartbreak

And though I am nowhere near where she should still be
I still wake expecting to find her

And for her
I have only this gift
Though it is meaningless
Though it is a cruel trick for the world to play
But when I think of her
I can cry
And no other has stirred this in me
She is the first to exact this pull beyond other motivation
And like so many others
Though they grieve more than I can comprehend
I will never forget her
My friend.