Never, during his entire mad, unmanaged spree
Could he see, though he claimed to look
Could he understand, though he claimed to know
Could he love, though he claimed a heart
I, then, left cut, scattered, chasing, winded
Tag Archives: Cut
Cold Blood
So icy
It was
How many times did I cut my hands
Cut my heart
Cut my teeth
It was
As if I’d lived a thousand Januarys
Only
And I were a cold-blooded creature
Who’d somehow survived
Untold
All the invisible damage
Allowed
Can’t I too be broken and bruised
Cut and lying
About a beautiful bicycle crash
nape
Up my spine
To the height of my neck
That is where steel shall meet cell
And I don’t care how man protests
What beauty there
LisaRosier.com 