A simple word,
Vibrant and throbbing,
Lies dormant within my throat.
Forever it will sleep,
Guarded by demons and angels alike;
And all the innards of a man
Slowly losing an uphill war.
And yet, even within these confines
That I have so clearly lain for myself,
I find myself struggling over custody
Of a word as simple as this.
It strains against the ropes;
This cage that I have set so cleverly
Seems to become less witty by the day.
All of this traps I have set
Are going off in my face,
And all these barriers seem to become
As solid as a cloud bank
Whenever you simply pass by.
Even at night
The battle rages on,
A constant debate within my soul.
Slowly turning, torturing
This mind that is not prepared
For such a thought.
Like a needle it drills,
Puncturing deep within
To the worm-ridden flesh
That makes up this cold manís heart.
And yet I am ashamed to say,
I enjoy it.
It is the incisions of a surgeon,
Made to preserve, not to kill.
With all the grace of a lover
You lay me open on this table,
With the cold sterility of a stranger.
Swiftly and surely
These red lines split,
Slowly revealing pale, pink flesh
And all the brittle bones
I have walked with all of these years.
(You see I am not as strong as I am painted.)
You reach through bleeding muscle
Slowly weaving to reach what has been lost,
Slowly moving to take
What I promised I would never give away.
All of this you do
Just to get to this treasure I have hidden,
Just to attain what I swore I would never lose.
And I hate to sound so clichť,
So Iíll just say this now and forever.
You donít have to steal it,
Although Iím glad you did.
Iím so glad you found it,
Please keep it for your self
But on last thing I have to say:
I would have just given it to you.