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(im)Patient Destruction
by Jayme L HelmickBold words,
Letting Go.
Now I have blood on my hands because
I have killed something beautiful,
castrated a dream and
wept tears of selfish sacrifice.
I knocked his heart to the floor
and watched as he tried to mop it up.
The bitterness coats my tongue and
cascades down like sulphur.
I open up a new chapter -
not without sadness, yet
not without relief -
and I know that of all the things I have done
that would deserve punishment,
breaking his heart deserves a hell of its own.
04/28/2006 Posted on 04/28/2006
Copyright © 2026 Jayme L Helmick
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 05/30/06 at 12:33 AM Well, I see the observer and the observed and the observer who observes the observed. Its seeing seeing, which is expressed here in this piece. |
| Posted by Rula Shin on 05/30/06 at 01:38 AM Yes, I too see an observer seeing the condition of the path left in the subject's wake. One either realizes, learns, and moves on, or keeps recalling over and over and feels hate towards themselves. Well, that's what I saw. Nice write :-) |
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