If I could reach 
Into my heart
Fingers caressing the veins
And arteries
Past ventricles and valves
Into the steaming depths
Of my chest
And bring out something beating
To give you
You might know
What my hapless words fail at
Every time I open my mouth
Every time I write
In poorly coupled rhymes
Strained rhythms
And loaded clichés.

If I could tear off my skin
Peeling layers of derma from the surface
Until there was only bone
You might see beauty
The delicate structure of my devotion

So I reach and pull, tear and peel
Hands out
Holding something
Which I hope will reveal truth
Its form purified by pain and blood
Open my palm
And find it empty.
 

A Little Lie

A little lie
Grew like snakeweed
Curling around the corners
Of my quiet life
Choking the new growth
Destroying the seedlings
Breaking through the soil
And, without benefit of water or sunlight,
Turned into a gorgeous beanstalk.

Up to the top
Shimmying on night time legs
I met the giant, his cyclops eye
Seeing into the soft centre
Of my prematurely hardened heart.

A tiny lie
Which turned large,
More attractive than the truth
Glossier, heavier, more seductive
Than the day to day half life I was living
And leading me higher
Into the gold filled house of the titan
His heavy anvil
High above his head
Poised to crush, maim, destroy
Every bit of human flesh
Remaining on my bones
Fe fi fo fum
I fell back to earth
With a thud,
The rough ground filling
My fingernails
Peeling, soft, vulnerable and uninteresting
But real at least.