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teardrops
In the corners of the naked eyes,
desperation is pain
screaming in teardrops.
Stranded body
bent over backwards
like a doll hanging by thin strings
movements are not her own
actions pause
and repeat and repeat.
This is the skipping record
the mouth is a sun leaking red rage,
rose carpets of arms and legs.
Unforgiving to the sea of
aguish she climbs into
the stained bed sheets
a velvet of words
a movement of arms which she dreams
of a woman
a friend in need that sees such pain
but does not know that
she is the only reason I have not
taken my final leave.
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