Originally published on Braveandreckless.com
I drink this curious wine
Amidst this dying battle
In the early morning hours
When sleep is a dream
Chased no longer.
A bruised oppressive rawness
Settles over all.
No joy to find
Amidst such wreckage.
I am siege wearied
By a bombardment of words.
Thus, I lay down the sword,
Offer up my neck to you.
And though I should win
The gold and gems,
It is bitter truth to swallow
In this curious wine
You’ve given me to drink.
I begin a day with no respite.
Stones piled
One upon the other,
Weighing on the chest.
I feel the crunch now of bones
Pressed by the tonnage.
Death by stones of grief.
I am a retired teacher, enjoying said retirement. I have been active in the gay and lesbian community since I threw away my Ken doll at the age of four.
You can read more of my…
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