Blinking

Blistered, black and blue, blinking.

Teardrops forming, falling on arid ground.

From where guttural cries should come, emanates no sound,

Just this everyday surrender in which I’m sinking.

                                              

I pick myself up, but he run me down.

I dry the tears, but he makes me drown.

He can run from himself, but he can’t stop drinking.

He can beat me up, but he can’t start healing.

And it’s with this dilemma that I’m dealing.

The broken thoughts that I cradle, the broken thoughts I’m thinking.

He can do a lot, but he can’t do anything.

And the angels won't carry him on their many wings.

In the aftermath, it’s he who’s drowning, while I’m winking,

Black n’ blue blistered, blinking.