deepundergroundpoetry.com

Honey and Soil

You my love,                
You have turned pathetic in your love                    
                   
All moist in sweetened sap                    
                   
Drowning in a drought-                    
Selfish                    
                   
I, empty handed of honey and wet soil                    
                   
I dried in the mist of your pretty words,   Pretty with no beauty of truth  
 
Not a lick of it         
                   
Swollen with your false affirmations wedged in the vase of my silent throat                    
                   
Choking me full with facade, no touch reached my lonely spine            
       
My mind left pathetic and brittle with the torture of wanting; begging        
       
The desperate and suffocating want of something honest in this drowning of deceit        
                   
No sweet trickled down my starved tongue,          
You saved that for everyone else to taste your love                     
           
Your contrived image all adventure and conceit, my existence non-existent and here I thought I could be apart of something            
                   
And still, you rooted yourself in my soil        
Crochet your filthy fingers inbetween my ribs-      
       
With no passion in growth,                    
Just invasive in the face of my need                    
Which is to now understand,
I harbored the lick of the thief                
               
Your crimes and pity left selfish on my flesh      
       
I allowed the rotting of roots,        
In a way I too encouraged their death                
                   
Do I deserve the hollow of laughter and touch if I make room for it?                    
                   
Possibly                 
                   
Is my body simply the place holder for the next naive chandelier of roots, lips, and limbs?          
                   
Probably                 
                   
My light feels disheartened,                    
My hands disappointed in my holding on, My passion depleted,                  
My carcass a rotted out log  
   
As disappointing as it is to say, I blamed you for killing me that day  
   
I saw myself through the frame I watched you build  
   
I disintegrated- seeing I was painted worthless when compared to the view you chose to sit your eyes  
   
Their bodies,  
Your disguise,  
My disgust  
   
Their posed smiles and practiced perfection-  
   
My broken reflection exposed my trust in believing you for the sake of love

Even if it killed me  
          
I need to escape the womanizing thief of-you                   
Before there is nothing recognizable left of-me                    
                   
I have come to terms that I must be the one to uproot myself and finally leave            
To walk out of our home and properly breathe- to be grateful for the release    
   
And not beg for it to overtake me     
   
My rot and bruised heart is ready for its own adventure, not for the sake of the pose and picture- discovery of solitary and perhaps growth even in its ugly         
           
I am tending to my garden and bees now            
   
I need to find my peace           
           
Goodbye old love,            
I am ready

To leave
 
To grow
 
To breathe         
           
           
           
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
                   
 
Damselinhandcuffs
Written by Damselinhandcuffs
Published | Edited 22nd Jul 2021
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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