(no subject)
My eyes cry red.
And these tears ooze from the wounds that you’ve made.
They smear and stain your chest stomach arms and legs.
Sure they may heal and fade
But the pain remains.
Am I to blame?
Though I never held the blade in my fingertips
My fingerprints are on it just the same.
My thoughts linger on a single frame.
A moment in time
That replays in my mind that wont seem to go away.
I heard your cries echo in my ears yet I sat frozen.
Weighed down by the notion that it was all in my hands.
I couldn’t stand.
I couldn’t move.
I learned to walk 18 years ago.
And like every breath the concept of putting one foot in front of the other comes without thought.
But what do you do when that concept has left?
When what infants do everyday is too complex?
I was all you had left.
I could lift myself up on table at age three to get candy.
But I couldn’t lift myself up on my own two feet at age nineteen to save a life.
And though you survived I still live with the guilt as though you had died.
This burden isn’t only mine.
But you’re weak from loss of blood so I’ll carry all the weight.
I can’t sit up straight ‘cause it weighs on my shoulders.
Sure acceleration due to gravity is 9.81m/s2.
But the added force of this mass acting on my back propels me lower at a speed much greater than that.
I couldn't be bothered to write about it for a really long time. Maybe because it made no sense in my head, I don't know. It's not finished yet, but I'm not sure that it ever will be.
And these tears ooze from the wounds that you’ve made.
They smear and stain your chest stomach arms and legs.
Sure they may heal and fade
But the pain remains.
Am I to blame?
Though I never held the blade in my fingertips
My fingerprints are on it just the same.
My thoughts linger on a single frame.
A moment in time
That replays in my mind that wont seem to go away.
I heard your cries echo in my ears yet I sat frozen.
Weighed down by the notion that it was all in my hands.
I couldn’t stand.
I couldn’t move.
I learned to walk 18 years ago.
And like every breath the concept of putting one foot in front of the other comes without thought.
But what do you do when that concept has left?
When what infants do everyday is too complex?
I was all you had left.
I could lift myself up on table at age three to get candy.
But I couldn’t lift myself up on my own two feet at age nineteen to save a life.
And though you survived I still live with the guilt as though you had died.
This burden isn’t only mine.
But you’re weak from loss of blood so I’ll carry all the weight.
I can’t sit up straight ‘cause it weighs on my shoulders.
Sure acceleration due to gravity is 9.81m/s2.
But the added force of this mass acting on my back propels me lower at a speed much greater than that.
I couldn't be bothered to write about it for a really long time. Maybe because it made no sense in my head, I don't know. It's not finished yet, but I'm not sure that it ever will be.