Rescue
The first time my lipsLanded your cheek
I tasted the salt
Caked into the corners of
Your dimples.
From the timeless time you cried,
Run down your solemn face
Dripped and dried.
You wore this expression
Just beneath your skin.
How your parents divorced their living lives
When you were four years old.
And those tears you still buckle beneath
Black rings of mascara.
And that frown you still focus into a smile with
Slick licks of red lipstick.
For nights,
I palmed your black and blued heart.
But you gave and gave and gave
Until you were a million broken pieces
In the denim pockets of a million nobodys.
You were selfless, less and less.
I was open heart surgery.
Anything to have you have a beat.
I was lung transplant.
So you could somehow breathe again.
I wanted to give you life so you could be, feel, do alive.
I wanted to.
Poetry by Shawn Monahan
Read 977 times
Written on 2009-01-14 at 15:48
Tags Love Divorce
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
