Friday, November 20, 2015

Detach


Detach....separate....disengage;
Pain, torment, all down the page.
It's like yesterday was everything
and today can't be the same.
Detach...separate...disengage.

There is no falling or crying or drowning in water;
There is no lack of air, need to disappear or avoiding cannon fodder.
It's not like the feelings before that traveled down the pages;
It's different...internal, and comes in blood and stages.

It's everything that was done and said in unequal proportions. 
It's the motions, the actions, not the words that were spoke with misfortune. 
There was no screaming, no yelling, no physical fits of anger;
There was distrust, manipulation that followed with the flag "danger".

The glass falling to the floor, shattering into pieces
Was nothing more than a heart covered in diseases;
Pumping, thumping, beating and pounding out its fight
Breaking, faking the need for its own life. 

Fractured, shattered, broken beyond repair;
Cutting, hurting, pain replacing all the fear.
Its nothing,it's everything, the hollowness in between
what should of, could of, and never ever would be. 

So I tell you now, how the numbness comes creeping in...

Detach....separate....disengage;
Pain, torment, all down the page.
It's like yesterday was everything
and today can't be the same.
Detach...separate...disengage.

~~grb  11/20/2015

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Tapestry


 His body poured over mine...
it's like sweltering lava melting my skin.
I can taste him like water to wine
And feel him like every sin...

He touched me like I needed
And he held me like I wanted
But he couldn't kiss me like I dreamed it
yet it was great to feel so completed.

And then , I was drowning...

The water poured down on me...
Satisfied, I could only feel ...
Over my breast and down passed my knees.
It all felt heavenly.

He draped over me like I was his curtain
Passion poured like a fountain dripping from the sky
His hands molded my body to the form he desired
And I melted into him..

It was a tapestry, 
An artwork of no one's design;
A patient man with anxious hands
that shaped me into a piece of art.

Wrapped legs around the hips,
one can imagine the need beneath.
But, this one laid there endlessly,
to take each dying breath.  

He poured over me like melting lava
He draped me like a curtain 
He was a magnet to my body
and an anchor in my soul...

His passion poured over me like a fountain...
His hands molded me to every desire
Leaving me satisfied and completed...

I was a tapestry, 
An artwork of only his design;
A patient man with anxious hands
that shaped me into life. 

~~grb 11/12/15
(The pucture above does not belong to me. It was sent to me via text with no listed author.)