Is this what I am
in your wet shine eyes
your countenance
bathed in homespun
brittle sorrows?
Tiny darts of petulant hurt
are flung at this image
this effigy of me
rushes of fantasy
tied with brambles of desire
into a sad man-shape
The barbs fall short
hindered in flight
by the fear to face
all that I truly am
all you helped
to make me?
Are you finished?
Is the unwrought
able to set tools aside?
Cease your volleys
your tears
let the love
you helped to suffocate
slip by in silence
and unremarked
Seek yourself
in the fading ruin
and when you find you
rise up
become the whole your half needs
and cut the strangled rushes free


© W.R.R. 2/4/2002

About W.R.R.

Bipolar & survivor of incest/child sex abuse and adult male rape; bisexual, polyamorist, poet/writer/advocate & married father of four. View all posts by W.R.R.

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