i look down to see this silver
strangling such a pallid bone
wrapped around a writhing knuckle
intricate striations skewed
misshapen from misuse
worn down from wear
contemplating this crown
crusted over and sinking into
a heart that’s too heavy
for flayed fingers to hold
you live by this, die for this
and yet it means nothing
a symbol that falls short
and how could it not
for no one is available
to qualify these qualities
i find myself unable to let go
unaware of any sensible reason
to hold on to a mere myth
perhaps haunted by a naïve notion
that this will one day ring true
so here it remains
and the mystery will dangle
like this spherical shape
that rests among the ridges
strangling such a pallid bone
wrapped around a writhing knuckle
intricate striations skewed
misshapen from misuse
worn down from wear
contemplating this crown
crusted over and sinking into
a heart that’s too heavy
for flayed fingers to hold
you live by this, die for this
and yet it means nothing
a symbol that falls short
and how could it not
for no one is available
to qualify these qualities
i find myself unable to let go
unaware of any sensible reason
to hold on to a mere myth
perhaps haunted by a naïve notion
that this will one day ring true
so here it remains
and the mystery will dangle
like this spherical shape
that rests among the ridges
I love your writing. But it often leaves me a bit lost for words, because it really is that good. I read this like 5 times to try and think of something to say that would do justice to it, but I couldn't. So here's my crap comment.
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