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The rock and the bottom

Tags: sang wrote rock

THE Rock AND THE BOTTOM

I sang, I sang my lips off,
I sang until I’d bleed and cough.
I carried songs with my voice shaking
And did not let you hear it breaking.

I wrote, I wrote you out of each
Old memory I could still reach.
I wrote my fingers off until
I could make the words stay still.

I drew, I drew for nights and days,
I sketched from memory all the ways
My pencil used to catch the shape
Of that silhouette I can’t escape.

I sang and screamed and how I prayed
To escape my own words’ blade,
But they still came and cut through me;
They blinded me so I could see.




This post first appeared on Dixie Poetry, please read the originial post: here

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The rock and the bottom

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