PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I can tell you that a
bold faced lie is more
delicate then a shy lover
I know of a lone bird perched somewhere
and it has more conviction in its
beating heart
which flutters faster then mine

I will never have that flutter
I will never take part in such a matter

It is only instinct to
want to panic when you look down
and to rock back and forth like a crazed being
I have told a lie and won't go to heaven
I will not see the white mirror of angelic supremacy
I will not feel the flow of warmth come over me
yet when I die,
I will wait for you
Lean against the long corridor,
watching the door revolve
in and out
I will need you to forgive me

I have been blessed with a
gift
to tell a lie and forget
I am strange, with blood lust
and with so much blood on my hands,
I may have done this before
When I was small, I
may have hurt someone
and it may have come back full circle
Darling, it haunts me
like the river I'm going to drown in someday
I like it precise
and steady
these lies

I believe that grief is
the basis for all of it
and tomorrow I will have to
tell my father that I
dont think I have ever loved him
and I will have to watch him
squirm and spiral in his descent,
like a lone bird,
wounded on the ground
to which I take my boot and
snap its neck

This road has to end somewhere

I cannot be the kindness you seek
I will not conjure up my past for
you to eat like candy
sucking
and tussling it with your own lying mouth
I will not do this thing

my love has to end somewhere

and the truth is,
you don't have the courage to
get it back