Prayers of Painful Loneliness
By: Ivan Adams
Hands that pluck instruments strings
Tear tiny bits of heart ever few moments.
Flower petals ripped one at a time
Reciting “Love me, Love me not.”
Careless hands fumble over letters A-Z
Murmuring words of discomfort
Lips parting in crude contortions.
At the start, Geisha painted words
Ripple and blow ice
Filling the broken fissures of the organ.
Until vast fire geysers sprout from tongue
Melting the ice and filling emptiness
With floating chunks of heart particles
Waiting to be swept up by the
Big Man with His healing broom
Before the ringing telephone
Beaconing an eternal visit to
The realm of Hades is given answer.
Every pluck made is so crude
That streams on cheeks are
Made visible to deep moonlight
Yet invisible to eyes that
Plan to deal all the damage.
Playing cards cut through skin.
Knaves fill my cup with poison.
Queens laugh at me.
Kings’ dull eyes glance through me.
I am mist in the wind,
splattered against windshields of cars.
Unnervingly plucking me apart.
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