I have never understood
How people can be so callously indifferent
To the damage they do
By following their own hearts.
How they can give out chances
Like daises picked from flower beds,
Placing blossoms at the feet of those unmoved,
Skipping over outstretched hands.
And I am tired of watching
Wild flower possibilities wilt and die,
Crushed under soles of soulless feet.
Wearied from the waiting
For you to crawl into my open arms
When it suits you.
I can no longer abide your forehead against my chest,
Eyes clenched shut,
Cursing names of those you hunted –
Willing you to whisper mine instead.
You chase down tides,
Let girls like rivers charge through you
While I rip myself to pieces
To plug the holes in your dam,
To patch you up and keep you whole.
****
I was told as a child,
As I’m sure you were, too,
To follow my dreams and to trust the sound
Of my beating heart.
I was never instructed on where to go
When someone else’s reverie
Leaves yours bloodied and writhing,
When the sound of heartbeat turns to gunfire,
When the destination is sure destruction.
So if she ever asks
While you lay your head in her hands,
Your new found place of salvation,
Tell her that my dream was to love you,
And yours was to break me.
How people can be so callously indifferent
To the damage they do
By following their own hearts.
How they can give out chances
Like daises picked from flower beds,
Placing blossoms at the feet of those unmoved,
Skipping over outstretched hands.
And I am tired of watching
Wild flower possibilities wilt and die,
Crushed under soles of soulless feet.
Wearied from the waiting
For you to crawl into my open arms
When it suits you.
I can no longer abide your forehead against my chest,
Eyes clenched shut,
Cursing names of those you hunted –
Willing you to whisper mine instead.
You chase down tides,
Let girls like rivers charge through you
While I rip myself to pieces
To plug the holes in your dam,
To patch you up and keep you whole.
****
I was told as a child,
As I’m sure you were, too,
To follow my dreams and to trust the sound
Of my beating heart.
I was never instructed on where to go
When someone else’s reverie
Leaves yours bloodied and writhing,
When the sound of heartbeat turns to gunfire,
When the destination is sure destruction.
So if she ever asks
While you lay your head in her hands,
Your new found place of salvation,
Tell her that my dream was to love you,
And yours was to break me.