The writings of Oddpoet

My face is blis­tered by the demands

The sug­ges­tions to free

Cut and cauterized–

They’ve hurt me.

Have you not heard me pleading

For the release of all that caresses?

His release.

Have you not heard me beg­ging to the presses

All these years?

I’ve done what was asked

Walked across acres upon acres of shards of glass

Passed razors through the maze of my soul

Dis­sected my heart with a mon­o­cle mirror

And I’m whole

I’ve for­given my fingers

And I’m whole…



But his release–

His release demands of my mind’s eye

His suf­fer­ing rakes the embers of my need

To sus­tain my high

Blis­tered and scarred

Ris­ing to an inferno I can’t disregard

And my fin­gers beseech thee

As my con­science screeches to me daily

Release him

Just release him so my sight can see

He lives with­out me

Sat­is­fac­to­rily

Allow me to wit­ness him serene

In the wild

Liv­ing out his most desired dream

And he will be filed under case closed.

I’ve done what was asked

I’ve inhaled the rose

And suf­fered each thorn as it passed

Licked the morn­ing dew from your boots

Uprooted roots I thought would never be free

And rotated eye­balls to view within

The bloody inter­nal mas­sacre of sin and debris…

I guess I just don’t know what you want from me



But you know what I want from you

Oh you’ve always known what I want from you

And you hold it close to your chest

Under lock and key and duress

I could kill myself, leave a sim­ple note of sin­gu­lar pleas

But you still wouldn’t give me what I need–

His release.

For his release is mine



And you’ll never let me go

Blis­tered and mangled

You’ll never let me go as such…

I’ve seen too much.



©Jen2010 1–31

Tags: Acceptance, desperation, Poetry, relationships

This entry was posted on Monday, February 1st, 2010 at 8:00 am and is filed under Para Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.