|
Raise My Arms
by Aaron BlairWhen we play the game of wills,
he always wins. He only needs one hand
to hold me down, and I don't have
enough hands to protect myself,
to shield against the blows.
The fear tastes like metal,
like iron in my mouth, shattering my teeth
and severing my witless tongue.
When I can no longer speak,
he asks me why I never loved him.
The silence torments us both.
There were never any words.
There will never be any words
to charge the air between us
and let him know that I fought.
No matter how many times he broke them,
I always raised my arms.
10/12/2011 Posted on 10/12/2011
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 10/13/11 at 03:18 AM Wrenching. My God. |
| Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 10/13/11 at 08:23 AM gut-wrenchingly brutal. well-written nonetheless! i need a hug & some rainbow flavored cotton candy now i think. |
| Posted by Tony Whitaker on 10/13/11 at 08:45 AM A voilent Bukowski this way comes!! Brutal but brilliant. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 10/16/11 at 06:56 PM Surrender or defiance? The questions hangs in the gape of the reader -- persuasively graphic... |
|
