i can't explain


Darling, there are things in this World....

Darling, there are things in this world, of this world,
That pick and scratch until you are left with blood
And scabs and scars.
Be they words or metals, animal or fish,
They will get to you. At least once, though probably more.
And you will carry these scars, and they will be badges
Of honor or shame.
Sometimes you can hide them in your coat pocket
And sometimes they will be slapped upon your face,
But always there.

Darling, there are things in this world, of this world,
That kill. They hack and saw, kiss and love
Until you are pearl-white in your death cradle.
But it is not an easy death. It is an agonizing one,
Drawn out for days or weeks or centuries, though it is certain.
Wind and rain, brick and rubber; Death has many spies,
A hundred eyes fixed to you.
And if Death but wounds you, it will follow you
All your days. It remembers your smell and your apartment number,
Always there.

Darling, there are things in this world....




Poetry by halfjack
Read 793 times
Written on 2012-11-24 at 22:19

Tags Death  Loss  Love 

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Nathalia
Scary, but probably true. Well written.
2012-11-30