Hospital Ward

when i come undone
but refuse to let the water fall so that it's shut
in the same place as the fire,
burning and singing its hideous symphony
i just want to close my eyes
and turn off my heart 


my brain, the thoughts that sear tissue but it can't be physical
because surely someone would have called a doctor
doctor?
i see them wheeled in for the jumpstart, and i celebrate with flowers
at first breath, only to lay them on a pile of dirt a few years later
i hear them suffocate on white beds pressed to perfection, eyes flickering
and i cried out
doctor,
please,
but the patients remain
this is where i sleep, where i wake
the hospital ward traps me with their sighs 


i am floating in a sea much deeper than i'll confess
watching some running towards me from the shore, but they don't know these waters
floating, watching the rest play on the sand while i stay because
they will see the drenched clothes,
always too heavy for occasion.
seashells are so much prettier to look at
so i float 


but when i lay down to stone defiance
tired and with a knife at the world's throat
you brush against me,
with something like wings 


and i cannot hate
because of your love. 


which i so frequently reject because i don't understand,
but accept because you pour it over me until i can barely stand. 


my broken heart
will never measure up against yours,
and the least i will do is to allow you full access
to the hospital ward,
to the sea,
grasping the wonder that you,
are for me.
grasping the wonder that Calvary cost everything,
and that i
in empty rooms of solitude with you,
am in need of nothing.