The Lonesome Rock and other Poems and Shorts

I sit

I sit

gazing at the water

my mind blank

my fingers,

numb

guilt and shame

crashing onto me

freezing my tears as they fall,

like glistening gems,

to my lap

choices I can never undo

I remember it

so vividly

the icy metal on my fingers

the taste of iron,

the bruises.

our house

a war zone

you

my love

my enemy

my victim

now

I sit

my fingers

red

the metal now

warm

wishing for the water to rise over it's banks

and spirit me away