Saturday, June 4, 2011

The Last Journey Ends Here- Dealing With Bipolar Spouse

This family rest in a grave
Tears buried and screaming
Can anyone here me
Through the  miles of his lies
There's the symphony she is playing
Gathering one by one
They wonder what it was ............

I have folded
on this journey

As his hand rest between cotton and determination
His knife slit the soul of this heart
as he sits quietly mocking
black eyes.
My white dress bleeds

What is there of a man with no conscience
lining us up one by one
apologizing as he fires the gun one more time.

There is no promise to this story.
As there is nothing

I pray , I pray as he buries us for the last time
My tears drowned the box we lay in
The sorrow is more blue than any rainbow I could imagine.

I can't imagine this evil creeping in.
I hear the symphony play as my ears fall under  water
As I sing my children a lullaby
I tried so hard
I prayed so hard
Save me now
I am drowning.
But there is no one here this time.

And there are no more lullabies.