lessons

my head, like a log jam of splintering emotion

waiting on the tears falling thick and hot as tar,

floats outside the bubble, cringing before the pop.

i curl upon myself as tired as an old spank mag.

truth elusive as a quiet moment smiles smug

eyes closed against the sight. the first one drops.

breaking wide open as a hand hidden smile

i free the load and pay the toll for follies passion.

a momentary sorrow tart as grandma's rhubarb pie

rests upon my heart; a stone as shiney as a pearl.

this story runs deep as a mysterious blue hole

its depths yet touched beneath my swimming feet.

a heaving breath shakes loose and I release

myself from shame, from blame, from pain...

this is why i live alone inside my wicked head.