Apr 28 2014
Your Shoulder
Things sometimes,
Get in the way, the
Harder it gets –
Life‘s still okay, it
Gets hotter and hotter,
Colder and colder,
But I have you –
I Don’t smolder,
Mind it or not,
It shows a start,
I Have the passion,
Your undying heart, the
Shoulder you fashion me from the dark.
(3 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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“Things get harder. Life gets colder. But I don’t mind it, I have your shoulder.”
You are incredible, Dennis.
Absolutely amazing piece of writing.
this is truly an amazing piece of writing Dennis
so simple, yet so full of emotions
Thanks guys!
think it’s beautiful, and it hit close enough to home that it felt almost written for me.
leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses.
you make him call before
he visits. you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.
Running.
In a standing motion.
Fashioned from endless waves of emotion.
Broken as I stand a man of devotion.
But why and where and how and when and
Who am I because I’m not him.
It fuels the run–
It echoes the heart.
I trip. I fall. I start.
Mindless.
Forgetting to eat– Getting no sleep.
Strength from the tears of those that creep,
Telling myself that a man can’t weep,
And why would I go where no man should go,
So find me a lady with half a brain,
And I buy a bottle of jack,
Feeling accomplished in what I do.
Finally back on track.
Running.
In a standing motion.