Pearl Thistle Plug Epistle
Drinking milk, a flood of calcium in hopes of growing
Luminescent glowing pearl, your love a grain of sand.
My heart slows, knowing it will not sustain this
Frantic pace, racing away from you blindly
When you speak unkindly.
Won’t this magic coalesce? I’m a swine, now where’s mine?
I want to form one ‘round this formless soul, this
Strained muscle that keeps beating itself against your walls.
You laugh at my fumbling metaphors, toss your hair and
Suddenly not there.
It’s a thistle, grown around my healing heart, to ward off
Eager careless hands. Demands upon it will not stand.
Alone it stands until it blossom’s in the Spring,
The sting of cruelty long forgotten, memories of
Misbegotten days.
How I long to forget you, dear. To not see your face
Whenever I close my eyes. Forget your whispers, laugh,
and sighs. I close my eyes. This lingering appetite for
All that stills me, all that kills me, won’t be denied.
Have I died?
Drugs and alcohol, morphine and regret, a strange cocktail
Mixed in a broken glass. Cigarettes burn, I can’t forget. I
Yearn for that sting, the pain you bring, it cannot end until
I die. You are my life support. Am I strong enough
To pull the plug?
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