Unsheltered Burdens

 

I unsheathed his heart from the leather holster he concealed its Sharp and divied edges beneath

fearing not the cut of flesh or loss of blood to follow after.

Carressed the brittle decay of his sharpness with my secrets

and delighted at the way he slowly unraveled from the binds that had held him dormant,

opening his veins too allow me see the pain beneath scarred and tattered skins.

I drank thirsty of his worries, feasted on his streams of thoughts letting my ears carry his weariness,

He was hesitant to bare completely the complexity of his mind, but this tender hand stemmed him to speak clearly and completely leaving no stone to remain in the polluted lakes of shadow.

Unconciously I trace each life line with my irises memorizing every torment the flesh withstood.

Hand of a surgeon cautiously removing the shades from his life.

How beautiful it is to listen too a soul unravel itself from the ghosts that trouble it's sanity

and be the hand that guides it to stilled waters to bathe in relief..

To watch a burden remove itself from a mind that feared all but what is known.

To watch the pieces of shattering pick themselves up from the chests floor and dance to piece together a heart once more.

"I see you" I whisper

See the fear in your opening...

Know you would sooner run then allow another cut rupture the vein of your subconscious.

I see the dried copper on the walls of your irises, how they scream of the tired wanderer's trials,

How they hold so much concealed by the falsehood in your confident thin lipped smile.

Tricks of the restless mind, pretending there is never more then what meets the eye.

But I resignate in your truth, drowning so lovely in your chaos, caressing the surface and the layers beneath the lie.

You could turn from my knowledge and believe you still remain isolated and unknown...

You can believe that you hide between the stars and space gravitating in no one, no where...

But I still see you, uncloaked of false pretense, jagged around the edges,

Still feel the cold that whimpers in your hollows sucking your will from your breath.

I know what borrows in your veins arguing with lady death and three leaf clovers with no real listening being given.

I listened to what you were saying when you said nothing...

My how I am consumed by that beauty...

Injury is only temporary, and scars fade in time, but I could always trace them with my own.

Know you can only hide from ignorance and vanity, but you can not escape a persistent outstretched hand that fits perfectly in your soul.