The then, the now, it's shattering.
I hold my breathe
for love again, for you, for this new turn
this fresh turned Earth
and pray.

I am your diary angel
bred for tears and strewn petals
and inkblots
the gnashing of teeth
your prelude to joy and to fear
I am pages
so fresh and so white for the marring
I
am your unwritten song
your crystallized pain
a jewel in saltwater hands
I turn all of your past into pretense
your macabre
into melody

and this is how:

Like a theif in the night
your causes all steal away in me
and writhe their way under my skin like blades
or foreign bones
and sink themselves into these spaces I'm made of
and finally-
when every nook is exhausted
all crannies rammed with the refuse of long-bedded history
shard of debris from those teetering ids and egos-
I find you've got more up your sleeves
and I bob like a corpse to near capsizing.




This is the crucial part, the unforgivable gash in me.

I cut myself in two with your causes,
your need to fill some space with all the hurt I'm somehow linked to.
I pull the final cord inside and it all goes washing out
the bad with the good
the good with the heinous
so I don't need to feel what's been in me
-used like a wretched soiled condom
I poke a secret little hole
and let it drain.

So you fill it with more
but I don't care.
You hold me close and thank your God for my ears
and later my hands
my lips, my teeth and my tongue
but I'm broken as you were
and not coming back.
You could fill me sweet words
and somehow I'd still sink
-like the air in your lungs isn't light enough
-like the words don't just skim
anymore.

And I do this
I purge them
so they can be with me.
Set aside my love for me
and fill myself with their loathing
a martyr for a better love
I nail my own wrists
my own feet
for your heaven.

And they always want to grow it all up
after that
start fresh
live anew.

But I am a diary angel
and even erased
your ink's gouged
on my face.

05/30/2006

Posted on 05/30/2006
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia