Mockingjay

Saturday, January 11, 2014

The Most Cruel

Random words that string themselves together,
A mind of their own with a puppet to emit them,
Coursing through the air and echoing against cold walls,
Clashing against one another, enough to cut through skin.

Unguarded and fragile it stands,
A heart that after so much torture, still bleeds,
Uttering every hidden syllable treasured dear,
Flowers of self-destruction fruits and reseeds.

A confession, a lie, a sliver of truth,
Crusted by time and rusted shut by fear,
Prized open when fear cancels itself out with fear,
When anticipating the arrival of death, contents spill.

"Beauty divine, unrivaled and flawless...will you spend all of eternity with me?"

Beautiful words twisted into flowers that hang their heads,
A question unanswered while echoing forever in the darkness,
Unwritten and unrecorded except by an already disintegrating memory,
A beloved held close but now whose reach lay farthest.

A broken promise even before it was made,
A word of tenderness now pierced with such cruelty,
A puppet without strings now lay lifeless upon the floor,
Unable to utter any more though in his state of incredulity.

A soul that has left his medium right before that hazardous moment,
An avoided breath of a reply that could have stopped his heart either way,
Be it in pieces or beating so fast that it stopped, guilt floods him for his cruel deed,
His heart was no longer hers to own, tomorrow never, but always yesterday.