Love the Impossible

i wrote this yesterday. i like it. i don’t know what it’s about.

The splotches on the veil of the bones
mask the stress embedded in the marrow.
With the ticks of nerves
come the scars of burden,
burden of obsession that is deemed
impossible to hide. The scheme,
the face of the lie
flies too far from the cry, 
falls to hard to try
to call him yours so she’ll be mine.

How numb you feel when
the
needle
pauses,
the single breath between
the
clauses
says more than any word conveys,
lies more than any prayer you pray.
Locked is the comfort too scared to release,
too scarred is the beast
within the subtle heart you hold
building statues of disgust laced with mold.
Beauty succumbs to the terror of wrath
from the surrounding force as easy as
the math you learn from age two and on.
The grammar unfolds and flows as a song,
singing lyrics too grand to contain
to one melody, they overflow as rain
in a gutter unprepared for a flood.
What starts as dirt soon grows into mud
that stains the nails of an unhinged dog
burying the splotch-ridden bones from the prologue.

He rides as one, sings as all.
Farewell to you, love.
Don’t let them see you fall.