Bleeding and Broken

Hear it
the plops of thick thoughts
hitting the floor of my sadness
they link and create chains of
words I don't want to hear
but I listen

I listen as they bubble up
and fall from my eyes
why the twistedness of life
why the deepest craters of ugly things
why do they show up covered in glances and words

And words tear flesh better than knives
the tongue
a full arsenal of weapons
aimed for the softest organs
waiting to sever the veins of truth
and leave them flaccid and exposed

exposed by the weaknesses of the mind
wanting to be set free
it captures and binds
in pictures less than perfect
pushing cravings to the edge of impossible recovery
I wait for the sound of the dawn
the crinkling of the air under the weight of prayers

prayers sent far into myself
I wring my hands waiting for answers to manifest
knowing right timing has been fulfilled in the future
I hear my soul breaking open
so that my spirit can shine