Licking my wounds, I write in pen ink;
I itemize sweat dripped my length to the floor.

Pointing my toes to the west,
I float sideways.
I find my old soul in the creak of a door.

Success, I was not quite ready.
Love, I did deserve.
Friends, I am tucked in bed, safe.
Home, I am lost without.

Bracing my back for the concrete sidewalk,
I drop my weight backwards,
my arms outstretched.
Counting to ten, I heard thunder crackle;
Now I must count to ten thousand to hear.

Lover, your arms lift my body
out from the depths of my despair.
Friend, you are soft as tear drops,
hiding behind a concerned mother’s stare.
Bracing my heart for the love you offer,
my lungs collapse at the touch of your back.

Gentle salvation cools from the door frame.
I dream in sonnets,
unable to rhyme landscapes with fear.

Success, you are sleeping soundly.
Love, I rest in your bed.
Friends, I still regret not saying.
Home, I am lost without.

written on 09/19/2009 by: Matt Kane