is it possible
that
in this world
we are born to, even destined for
a finite amount of suffering? (take it all away, sweetheart
not as I do, with desperate swallows,
but genuine healing touches)
[even if you do, though,
it won’t repair
what has already been and gone.
still, at least you can save another]
there is so much i would do
if you asked me to because I love you. I do.
(like this tarnished circle
of grinning wolf heads)
but i’m the wrong sort of gauze
for these scrapes and scratches
if there is a heaven,
then i will walk you up to the gates
and deliver you into a mother’s waiting arms
(even if it means i must stay outside)
Author notes
Would you like to be
sitting on top of the world
with your legs hanging free?
-Edit: I got rid of the music line. You were right, damn it.
Comments
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this is gorgeous, i love the theme of being the wrong kind of healing touch, gauze, etc for someone. it really flows together here. Also the last part of the poem is extremely poignant and actually made me tear up a little. The whole thing is just rife with that excluded sentiment, that tacit question, "Why not me?"
The only thing that doesn't seem to flow with the rest of the poem is this part " (suddenly the music seems too loud,
too indicative of elusive happiness) [but it reminds me of you…]" which perhaps you used to break up the poem but it seems to interfere with the overall feeling to this piece. Just my opinion, though.
Nicely done, I have really enjoyed the living hero issues and am looking forward to the next "season" ... perhaps a look at the heroes' alter egos, the villians?
<3
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