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Shot Glass Heart
I stride to a rusty playgroud set,
a haven, but not a safe one.
I, much more eager to welcome the shifting shadows
creeping to meet me,
Than the ones at home which scratch
at the door to greet me.
I swing, feeling small once more.
Legs pumping infantile and wandering,
Innocence limp in my sneakered feet.
My face reaches the cool night sky, supplicant.
Knowing this is the closest I’d ever be to god.
The street lights interrogating,
metal chains groaning,
bearing the memories of a thousand children.
Me still pumping my legs
In a futile gesture
to forget.
These invisible bruises.
Years of senseless crying.
Feet sore from aimless wandering.
Hands numb from rarely being clasped.
Pour back that glass
and become just as empty.
Me with the empty shot glass heart.
Denying the anger,
choking back the springs that leap
crushing the innerworkings of my soul.
The cogs and screws tick backwards,
a clock counting down to the seconds of
my expiration.
My expiration date has passed.
Perhaps this clock can now tick forward.
Better to suffer in the silence of one’s own agony,
then dredge up a poisonous past for all to drink.
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This article has 6 comments.
This is very catching and it caught my eye, including the title. The emotions leap off the words. My fave line was:
"My face reaches the cool night sky, supplicant.
Knowing this is the closest I’d ever be to god."
Well done! :)
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Favorite Quote:
"when the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace" -- Jimi Hendrix