tess's lament

the wheat chaffs beneath my fingers,
scratched and worn. beneath thick gloves,
blood pulses in enlivened rhythms,
my soul beating against the hard earth
in an attempt to ricochet back to heaven.
but the sky shoves me down
as humanity stomps on former dignity,
besmirched by wrongs inflicted
beneath the stares of hungry men.

my hands bleed, the trying drops fall,
staining the rest of my skin,
smeared against the whiteness
of forgotten purity.
but that blood is nothing
compared to that which spills,
draining life from an ever aching heart.

and then you come,
the devil on the apocalyptic plain,
your staring eyes penetrating
beneath the skin that attempts to hide
the pain you left and which sorrow exposed.
drawing near, my breath grows cold
as fear reminds me of blackened forests
through which carriages ride with haunted names.

reaching out, you grope for my hand.
withdrawing my soul, my heart lashes,
raising my hand into a bloody slap.
But deep within a thought arises
and in my mind I kill you, finally
breaking your heart again and again and again.