Blood Tells You a Lie

Blood tells you a Lie. Its dirt will, strip you clean Its teeth rip out your beating heart like a statue,you stand De robbed cold in its shredding winter blast. It deals out numb, gorges on your dignity steals your guilt pecked last crumbs leaves them hanging on your feeble trust like dissolving icicles mingled and minced in your candy-flossed threaded mind. You,mix,the details around in your night sweat damp sheet silence Cwtched up,too nighttime’s loneliness. Pillows whisper advice for hours, they deal a hand of confrontation, and calm pond outcomes are known, from flown by past time where you sat in a cold moons drip wringing pale, nail picked caring hands again shaping truths into clay happiness. Sifting the grains that remain into many wasted castles of sand, while hours swim, Looking for the end game plan but It does not come, morning does though. The adhesive of blood, or genes produce no repair, your left holding cupped hands a smashed egg timer, Its grains spilt, In the kitchen of your pain.