Hard

She told me i had a hard shell. That i don't let many in. i can't let many in, not really. i wear who and what i am on my sleeve, it doesn't mean i let you in. Not behind these iron curtains, even communism has nothing on me. But to let you in, to let you in completely, physically, emotionally and mentally, it means i have made myself a part of you. You should know by now not to squander it. You were the chosen one and yet stupid you stand with your dick in your hand. Ignorant and unknowing of how to operate in sync. It's so simple, so easy and i gave you the manual, the instructions to my very being, to my existence. As if God himself had written it. A Bible if you will to the center of my chakras. The golden force field of everything i am is handed to you, yet you walk away. Perhaps you need more of that fast food mentality, more commercial happy-go-lucky, high heeled, Mad Men ideology of life kinda woman.


I've let few in. Each broke my armor, but you of all have pierced it bit by bit with a fork. Injured i stand and fight with the many piercings you have left. You won't even acknowledge the wounds. I can't compete, i have no spite or revenge. All i want is compassion and reconciliation, a naive thought when i spin my mind around all that you've kept so secretly from me. The other man i do not know has taken you; your hidden life that i am not apart of.

i wait. Radiating gold, in a chair, holding tight and still as if it were the electric chair and i about to burn. i can only wait so long before i will want to fade away and follow the winds as dust.