I’ve got a bucket full of memories.
I spill from my deepest estuaries.
Like blood from fresh cuts,
Across the beds of my fingers,
Driving down to my thighs
Where the rivers run deeper
And the water bleeds darker.
My bucket fills with hazy days,
Dark specters and figures
Blending with the nightly shadows,
Caressing the darkest pieces
Just beyond the noise.
You bring me silence.
You bring me quiet.
You build dams to my scars;
Stopping the flow to my bucket of hell.
I’ve never found one like you before,
A soul that beats so close to mine.
Your blood flows darker,
Through this bucket of mine.
You touch the chaos,
No fear etched across your face.
You try to take it all away,
Try to steal my bucket of time.
I’ve stretched my heart;
Hung it to dry.
In the fields where your bones laid;
Where the rivers ran awry.
I visit it sometimes
To collect the crumbling pieces
Littering the red mud ground.
It never seems enough, the breaking never ceases.
Yet my heart remains solid and bold
Hooked steadfast to the tenter.
The wind calls me here with a siren song;
It moves me with slow seduction, it brings me to center.