For My Heart Is Bruised

Treat me gently, for my heart is bruised.
Give me grace, for my eyes are heavy lidded
with the loss of sleep and my arms are
laden with a heavy burden.

It’s the sun on the fields as the train
speeds by
gets me thinking what a wonderful country
I have to live in,
And makes me grateful for the winter light
and the beauty that spreads for miles,
Chimneys drift woodsmoke to the white sky
above me, shadows flicker to the left,
Beneath pylons.
Clackettyclakettyclaketty clack;
Beware! Uneven is the track.

Your hands surround my frozen fingers,
bitten nails, scraped knuckles,
Bony fingers, scars.
No elegance in these hands, these
hands that have seen hard work and
long hours and cold weather and hot
days and buckets of soapy water.
These hands that when surrounded by
your hands,
forget all this.

Dim the lights with the closing of eyes,
Stretch out your legs and curl up beside me,
Rest your weary head on mine and listen
to the whispered words of spoken lyrics
of songs so defenceless they take down my
defences and I speak the truth.

Trains home are for memories of dreams
that were not dreams yet still were smoke.
Your lips in my hair,
My hand in yours,
Music. Television,
Comedy, Thrillers.
Shivers down your spine.

I will treat you gently for I know your heart
is bruised,
But not so much as mine.

For My Heart Is Bruised

Anarkhos

Joined June 2008

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

It still hurts.

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