Her Veins

What words does she sleep in?
Are they lacey and sheer so you can see the scars on her hips
or are they itchy and uncomfortable to where she can't ignore
the way she feels so out of place in her own skin?
Would she tell you her secrets or only whisper them to the moon
and the man she sleeps next to and knows little about?
Would she insist she is happy standing on fire while he robs her soul
and plans her demise? Would she let you mourn over her while
blood still seeps through her veins? Would she tell her mother
of this lover and the way he is as stable as a loaded gun?
We won't now until she comes home and has faced her
dragons.
But she does not know the words she sleeps in so
family is far away.

Knotted

My hands and feet have seen the war.
My chest and head have felt some love.
My legs and arms have sought for truth.
All of these have served me well but
I still get lost in the knots of my soul.
I climb the rope to the top
only to find I must start again.
Sometimes those knots come loose and
drop me to the ground.
Everytime I am down my eyes prove their dominance.
No matter my dislike they always crawl for you.
Like my demons they always seem to win.

Tense.

I'm trying to find solace in His solidity.
I run into people's walls and they hand them over as
peace offerings.
I love His fluidity because my heart has become
a whole bunch of "I don't understands."
Some of my parts have been won over with
elbow grease and promised lands.
The rest are perched on an enemies
fence.
But He can handle mountains
so these two by fours prove past tense.