manuel of la brea

30

open wound

Autumn came, abandoned house
Like a fence scarred by rust
I was unsafe, playing games when you found me.

Bleeding lips, a broken heart
Held your hand so we could start
Mad lineage, playing games when you found me.

But I knew you:
Oozing like a blood rush,
giving me the face blush.

I knew you:
teaching me to be strong
even though I’ve done wrong.

And when you healed me like I was an open wound, tried to patch it up.

I saw your scars too, but you kept them hidden.

You gave me your nights and days.
Spoke of songs, myths, and tales,
I didn’t charge you with trespassing, larceny.

But I knew you:
Talking to strangers,
giving them forevers.

I knew you:
Wearing her blue t-shirt,
using your boot with quirt.

And when you healed me like I was an open wound, failed to patch it up.

I saw the scars you were running away from.

You treat me like a sterile salt
of cuts and grazes.
You’re a horse in sheep’s clothing,
but now I’m bleating.

‘Cause I knew you:
Shoving down excuses
on my throat, I puked them.

I knew you:
Now you don’t deserve me,
lies will not persuade me.

I knew you:
You want me to suffer
just because you lost her.

And I didn’t charge you with trespassing, larceny.