# of divers

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Little Wooden Boy: a tale of staggering heartache

"I wish I could be in your wooden arms
that swallowed me into a thousand dreams
and held me close while wooden eyes
that wept just like a willow tree"

I wish it could be in black and white
in a world where a bird and a fish can make a home
Would I sleep in your wooden arms
or trapped in the belly of love

I could brush those wooden hands
encased in wooden gloves
in sizes that only marionettes wear
with strings held tight to pull and tug their way
from anyone's grasp to make one stir, and move
and speak with the voice of a stranger

You'll dance the dance at someone's hands
and follow strings above
a perfect drowsy, guarded dance
of faithless-hearted love

A liar's nose masked thin from sprouting
and masked by fleshy lips
securely armed with words
that blow like invisible horsemen
to set the heart on fire

If only I had knocked
to hear the dull echo of timber sounding
trapped in the wooden recesses in an empty cavity
where a heart once resided
I could have heard the dull echo against
a lumber graveyard
instead it turned my soul to wood

but even wood begins to rot, and burns when lit
it meets a fiery kindle
one where knotty pine ignites
in veins that run through hollow wood
from an empty shell of a man

I'll bisect the ligatures
that held me captive
for I've grown weary from this loveless dance
I wish to go where there are no strings on me

My cast now loose from a fickle puppeteer
with a heavy weight in my shattered heart
I unravel my tangled strings
to step foot from the palm of your hand
and begin to dance to a tune that only I can hear

With strings now behind me in this delicate dance
a ballerina freed from long being anchored atop
her musicbox prison
where empty souls are left
to dance in circles for eternity

I leave behind the popcorn palace of yesteryear
as a slow melody is plucked from steel combed teeth
and I walk away knowing that the show will 
never go on again

I choose not to live in the world of marionettes
but rather to live in a land filled with unattached dancers
where I'll be free to promenade, sing and play
alone, but unrestrained in the dim light

I wish you well little wooden boy
may you forever be happy and loved
may your wood casing someday turn to flesh
may you find the strength to follow your heart
and the courage to one day speak with veracity

Knowing a love is so small
you aren't worth the truth 
is a pain greater 
than living in a fiery hell

and a love can burn, burn, burn
like a ring of fire, so I walk away now
with no end to my story
knowing the icy sting shall one day wane
and the tears speak words that the heart can't say

I was gifted a box filled with darkness
and forced to search for inconceivable light
how little I knew that it would someday 
burn so bright

I retreat to a shelter 
a sanctuary of safety
knowing someday
I will take shelter in the arms of a real boy

with hands and cheeks of flesh
with arms that love, heal, protect,
with eyes of truth that reveal a gateway 
to a noble soul
and a heart conceived from pure, unbroken gold

"to be a blanket for my bones,
to be a place to call my home"

in an extraordinary dreamland far and away 
where vows are valued more than egos
where promises are kept safe
and loyalty prevails

a land of love where radiant souls are born
and the sexiest thing to ever know
is trust

I surrender...

goodbye my precious thing
my little wooden boy


No comments:

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...