The Things That Hurt Us

All night, the diamond curls
in the secret hollow of my palm,
knuckles shining bone. One by one,
the fingers open, giving up
the beveled jewel.

Sometimes we hold the things
that hurt us, burning through
the fist-like heart; other times,
in pain, we let them go.

Prepare yourself to lose the blessed
gifts you've treasured, to miss
the beauty of their joy. Tonight,
I sleep with both hands clenched,

to keep them for myself.


RachelW said...

There's pain in that. Somehow though, I always find your writing very soothing. It must be something in the cadence.

Nobius said...

Wonderful ending.

I know I've invited you before but we'd love to have you submit work at Calliope Nerve.


In our humble opinion, you are definitely one of this generation's finest.