Everything hurts.
Everything is numb.
The darkness.
The light.
The golden leaves.
The rainy morning.
My life reviewed.
Nothing good revealed.
It stopped aching this morning.
Now it just hurts.
Now I know why people kill themselves with knives.
They weren't trying to die.
They thought they could cut out their heart.
And the pain with the organ would go away.
But here's the problem.
Your heart is on the left side.
And the right side hurts just now.
Maybe it's breast cancer.
Maybe I'll die soon anyway.
Maybe it's a failed kidney.
Maybe my body is killing itself for me.
Maybe the right side is where I keep your heart.
Maybe I'm totally numb, it's just your heart that broke.
Maybe I should talk to you.
No, that doesn't sound like a good idea.
You don't like what I have to say, you'll just be mad.
So I'll just go to sleep.
Oh, wait, I can't.
Because even sleep hurts.
Because even the hurts hurt.
Because every time I think of you my shoulder hurts.
And my tummy hurts.
And your arms are the only cure.
But I won't let you hold me.
And that's the worst part.
10/29/19
-for W
YOU ARE READING
Blind Leading Blind
PoetryMy third book of poetry. Sometimes I just can't see, yet somehow I find words, and if someone understood them, they'd look around and wonder where I led them. And I couldn't say. I couldn't say. -October Listen, in the peace of nonpursual. Words yo...
