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by amicus Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Drama · #1023975
strife and a glimpse of fulfillment.
The clear blue is calling out to me

It draws my eyes and captures my imagination

NO

I can't dawdle and admire, put my feet to the pavement

I better make a move or he'll have me choking on his knuckles

I wanna climb out but my hands are nets trying to keep what's in from getting out

small time thinker, that just makes him stab harder because I have what he wants

He doesn't care if I'd give it if I could, I can't so he's not stopping till I'm beaten bruised and broken

He'll not extinguish my light, my eyes though swollen shut are open

just learn from the beatings you're taking. learn it well and learn it good

I try not to let him cut me to ribbons,

I'm going to be dealing with watered down copycats for the rest of my life

He can't burn me no matter how hot his words are, I'm fireproof

so I chill, lay back, relax, soak up his ire, learn to play with other's fire

let it warm my soul, simmer in my cold and with a glance snuff it out

his is the great blaze that'll never blow over, makes the other's seem to me like cubscout's campfires

HAH, they think to make me they're pincushion? Think twice with that brain of soapstone

You can make others shrivel and cower with your gaze? Charlatan you can't even singe my haze.

I've learned to scale the walls, it took me a while to detach myself from this bucket of crabs

they'd hook into my heart and stab my back, they pulled my strings.

Silly me, I'd left my user manual on display.

I'd go so long without contact that I'd jump when I'd be brushed with a compassionate touch

sometimes I couldn't tell if I was hugging myself to feel loved or to keep from growing wet from their poignant tongues, numb from soaking in the cold red

I'm shrugging off these splatters of rusty red as the toll for my toil

'cause angel I'm coming

I'll scale mountains and swim the oceans, I'll hitch rides and hike my way to the clear blue

I'm striding through this furnace of transition with focus and determination, you are my guiding light

I'm leaving this pasture, throwing off this leather jacket, these vestigiums of languid apathy

No, I'll no longer leave my life on wayside or leave my mind boxed in limbo

I cry out to stem the flow of your sweet teardrops, to ease your tensely coiled shield arm.

I yearn for your's to be the hands stitching my wounds, just your sublime silhouette makes me feel whole.
© Copyright 2005 amicus (yinyang_550 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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