Bondage And Freedom





24 cans Black Cat Malt Liquor and me maybe 15

but the telephone pole knows, and there was pain like dead suns


the gang I ran with were older guys, like mid twenties

and in the band I played I made money, more than he ever would


wood sprayed with blood as I pounded

splinters of pine whirred like primordial pieces of bugs


there was pain like dead suns


all the hate I had all the hate I'd given

somebody took me down

when an arterial spray began to pulse

my knuckles shattered by the fours would pay


they’d squeak like saddles and buzz with spurs for years

its good to earn your own way



next day daddy held my white casts of bones

he wept and prayed, “I'm sorry,” he moaned, 

and asked me to move back home

as I shoved my mummy hearts back into his face

they roared like lions spinning on bloodened grass

seeking a salvation of innards, and the silent room glimmered


there was pain like dead suns there was pain like dead suns

and its good to learn your own way

but soon after, my heart began to move


I dreamed that a small, cold bird might have watched me that night

blinking, and trembling nearby as it closed it eyes in death


on that first night of a childhood’s resurrection



 








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DannyBeatty
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