To Be the Earth That Surrounds Him and Settles In His Hands.
I'm tying my wrists across the way he used to kiss me, back to bedposts and marking bruises
that resemble
February's
hands....
He bites his nails and PACES
left foot right and cry through telephone lines that
bite me...
He's terrified of losing me, of forgetting how I rested my lips upon his wounds in March
and my breath inhaled his soul, now he's leaking out of cuts I tried to heal
and here, here I have footsteps all across April
can't I scream? Can't I
just
scream?
I hear his fingers slipping across concrete, his heart is breaking, he's breaking
and I bleed every time he bites his tongue, I can't curl into this and hide beneath his chin
he mistakes the gnashing of teeth for the satisfaction of my appetite, he's blind to
frustration and I'm
CHOKING
still, I can't absolve him of his guilt, I'm having trouble with my heart this time
I'm suffocating on our past
and every
footstep
tears me, I know...
I know...
how to crumble and I think I'd love to be the dirt that sits underneath his nails just so
I could
feel
his tongue.
Don't...
I want to scream and watch Florida and Northern Pennsylvania smash in the sky
I want their lightning to strike me so I burn, I want him to capture the scent of my curls
from somewhere seeping through the cracks of his walls
I want him to see me, warped, my knees
crooked
my ankles teasing elbows, I want him to KNOW
the tears of April and what she would give to
SMASH us together one more time
so I can see it snow, so I can capture the originality of his cruelty
on my lonely tongue
as he scrapes concrete
to pass the hours in which he's terrified
to set me
free.
Copyright © Jeanmarie Marchese | Year Posted 2010
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