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Ocean Water
June 18, 2010
These string inside me
are bending and breaking and snapping
one by one like a crooked violin
and I am left cupping the vision of you between my fingers
(you are dripping through like Ocean Water).
I am so jagged around my edges
with scars painted on my angles
and hands roughly calloused from
holding onto you so
tightly.
Don’t you know how hard I try
to be the last one standing,
the one still hanging on,
the one that
never gives up
and never gives in
and never cries?
You have me breaking all my rules
and
crumbling,
as you dribble away.
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