Uneasy Truths: Poem

I cannot bear to write Another word, another letter That is not my very blood Spilled on the page No more lousy

half-hearted, half-assed Attempts to sound good Or pleasing or Trying to make poetry happen Lies, all lies Workings of fear That I care for no longer This heart beats now It aches now These eyes grow teary now Breathing labours now Each chunk of my flesh Pines now, Each bone of mine Grows brittle with Memories whose ringing I cannot deafen I wish I could dampen this pain With contrivances of joy Plucked from ideals found In some book of wisdom I wish I could say This heart is fond of your affections No more That it sits atop some mountain Where nothing but Tranquility Equanimity Sagacity Pervade But it swims in the muck All day, every day Thrashing through glass shards and blade edges Sprouted from your absence There, only there It searches, frantic, For the promised peace On a riverbank Where you await to pull it out From the fires that it tires in convincing itself Do not burn That pain is only an illusion That all will be well That it was merely a chemical reaction That a heart, this tireless red-pump, Cannot truly break Unconvinced, is the verdict