There is no longer devotion 
to this emotion
I\’m ready to drop it
And tell you to stop it.

You and your cadillac
you hemophiliac
running on empty

what now, what now
is there some corrective action? 
Or have you found satisfaction?
Someone had to lose?
Is it that one- 
with the bruise?
Will they be making the headline news?

You\’re cut and angry
but only on camera.
Shall I need to hold your hand up
or will it all blow up?
in one terrible and bloody mess up?

(Why didn\’t you do what any decent one would?)
Just done what you should?!
When presented by 
the most fitting penance 
Or heroic opportunity 
you bolted. 
Away from us
Fully knowing and
Indignantly stating: \”I\’m going.\”
Defying reason and blowing
It is so absurd, 
this imperfect trinket 
called your word.  
You picked it up yesterday
Which is quite early
For you
buying the ticket
But I\’ll be ready for stomps when I tell you to stick it.

The truth is 
we cannot keep pretending
that this is never ending
and keep expecting 
that the world will keep bending
to keep the bonds of us
from stretching, breaking and bleeding.
Perhaps it is not what the world is needing

A gentle turn of earth in spade, 
composts the more brilliant of blades
With those that suffered
All now in one irreverent heap

Perhaps it does just need 
He said as she lay bleeding:
What are you on about?
Her heart sank with doubt;
Not one word found
its intended destination 
Not one escaped 
the deeply embedded

(JETodd 2015)

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