Wading the bubbling plasma of
history, you stop at a vault
smelling of decay.
It is a grave.
Tell yourself it doesn't matter.
Do anything but this!
You know his vile temper.
Stab open stored boxes, rake
under the bed for
secrets.
There are words hard as stone.
Breastplates of pain, some misshapen
will. The rest is too hard.
Seal the door.
Crackling fills the air!
It is very hard to own what must
be called from the deep.
Blades shoot from heaven
through your hair.
Oh, you've done it now.
There must be cures, but none
cheap, none here.
Refuse these urges.
He has reamed you through this time.
Gather up your pieces, those
you can find.
Eyes closed, find the nameless sea
of sad lights. Thread the sky
with a silent blue scream.
Walk ashore. Do not trip.
Inside your sabotaged mind, where
even he cannot reach, crawl
up the dunes
and peek over.
There.
Just beyond reach, your
heart lies gleaming...
like something you cannot
afford.
Jo VonBargen 2011
"POWERFUL" "I calculate if I can afford all those years in the slammer if I went ahead and made your day" YOUR THIN BONES Letters I Never Sent You - on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005LKBR6A
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