POETRY

Substance

Patrick McDonough

And after all it was only your life
That was lost
It was only your sharp and restless bones
That cut against the confinement of your flesh
Your fingertips
Your fists
It was only your dark and angry blood
That beat against the bare walls of your arteries
Your veins
Your heart
It was only your hot and poisoned breath
That clawed at the cage of your chest
Your throat
Your mouth
It was only your substance
That pierced your brow
Your wrist
Your eyes
After all
It was only the brutal internal music
Of your dreams
Your needs
Your Love
And your lies
That could not be contained
By the crude instrument of
Your body
And that finally
Left it
Broken
In the dust

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