Email Poem

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Poem

we mend what we can -
broken saucers, with gum and patience
a detached belt buckle, with flair and calculations 
but an air of nameless melancholy, with agony and gloom?
imagine this, darling darner
my skin is laden with a heavy layer of misery
for i am the embodiment of darkness, 
to touch me is a sin
to have me is a crime
i stand alone 
and not even a tempest in a glass of whiskey
can move me from my despair 
no tool that you know of -
no plier, no hammer and not even a utility knife
can help me repair the wonderful misery that i am.
but oh darner!
you can mend me, they say
but why would you kiss darkness
and be one with my thoughts, 
which are most certainly arranged like a drey
on a dying tree with only one leaf?
my love, after i've groped my way around this darkness 
in search for answers
i have crashed several times
and hence 
i am indeed wounded, and flies feast on my broken pieces
i haven't had a ray to bathe in, my darling
and these demons reek of anger and dead flies
oh no! you shan't have to come any closer!
it's not your kisses, nor your embrace
but what would really mend my broken soul, oh darner
if not your fairly blatant lies?

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