Barbwire Sutures
If you are experiencing an unending malady,
one which cuts and binds you like a noose,
then firstly, you might consider trying to get loose.
But what if you can't, and the dire situation turns into a tragedy,
and the all-powerful words, "I love you" become a fallacy?
Then it is time to heal yourself, not relent and turn to booze.
Pray, smile, laugh, be pleasant, and strive to be good,
all the while hoping Karma will dole out what you're suited.
Alas, in the end, should even that fail, and nothing turns out as it should,
try to befriend them, make it seem a path you wanted to choose.
Do not overextend and leave your feelings and flanks unprotected
As your lover may betray you and your opinions will be booted.
And betray you she shall, my friend, my dumb son, if you will,
When she strikes, it will render you a weeping child, see?
It's best to have a clean break, to become unconnected,
And the only way to heal the wound is with a barbwire suture.
And that is evidence of why I should never try poetry. I can barely maintain thoughts and stories with only substance, but trying to build off of substance AND style, I start lacking rather quickly and severely.
I just thought of the phrase, "barbwire suture", while trying to figure out how to get over the reopened wound of my marriage.
I'm not going to bore you all with details, but it's sufficiently described with the simple, following paragraph.
The bosses at work decided that it would be a keen idea to put me back on the shift with my ex-wife. She and I were getting along quite nicely, and we were starting to calmly and nicely talk about where we went wrong, and I thought we were going to part on good terms. I was feeling goodish about the situation. After we talked a few days ago, she scolded me and told me how horribly abusive I am, and that was that. I have been oddly numb after that.
Okay, that aside, I've been thinking and rethinking some things for the past few days, and the phrase, "Barbwire suture" came to mind. Don't let anyone or anything near enough the wound to rip it, and it'll heal, dammit! Maybe not the prettiest scar in the world, but it'll be good enough!
More tomorrow. Or later tonight.
one which cuts and binds you like a noose,
then firstly, you might consider trying to get loose.
But what if you can't, and the dire situation turns into a tragedy,
and the all-powerful words, "I love you" become a fallacy?
Then it is time to heal yourself, not relent and turn to booze.
Pray, smile, laugh, be pleasant, and strive to be good,
all the while hoping Karma will dole out what you're suited.
Alas, in the end, should even that fail, and nothing turns out as it should,
try to befriend them, make it seem a path you wanted to choose.
Do not overextend and leave your feelings and flanks unprotected
As your lover may betray you and your opinions will be booted.
And betray you she shall, my friend, my dumb son, if you will,
When she strikes, it will render you a weeping child, see?
It's best to have a clean break, to become unconnected,
And the only way to heal the wound is with a barbwire suture.
And that is evidence of why I should never try poetry. I can barely maintain thoughts and stories with only substance, but trying to build off of substance AND style, I start lacking rather quickly and severely.
I just thought of the phrase, "barbwire suture", while trying to figure out how to get over the reopened wound of my marriage.
I'm not going to bore you all with details, but it's sufficiently described with the simple, following paragraph.
The bosses at work decided that it would be a keen idea to put me back on the shift with my ex-wife. She and I were getting along quite nicely, and we were starting to calmly and nicely talk about where we went wrong, and I thought we were going to part on good terms. I was feeling goodish about the situation. After we talked a few days ago, she scolded me and told me how horribly abusive I am, and that was that. I have been oddly numb after that.
Okay, that aside, I've been thinking and rethinking some things for the past few days, and the phrase, "Barbwire suture" came to mind. Don't let anyone or anything near enough the wound to rip it, and it'll heal, dammit! Maybe not the prettiest scar in the world, but it'll be good enough!
More tomorrow. Or later tonight.