Frozen Bullet Eyes
You shot me with those frozen bullet eyes
which at first ice-berged the center of my soul
but I didn't die.
can't be killed by a dead man.
The swipe of that ice crystal hand
was dismissively lodged
in my breathing space
and I cried;
but real tears don't fall for the already deceased
feeling wise.
I stood full on
in Massive Regret
shrounded in its Cape of Sorrows
yet
persevered on to day next
piling high
frozen layers
which I could and would melt
and yet
you now come back
hands now greased
with your own blood and wounds
to say
I was the only one who'd understand
how a dead man feels.
I took your face in my hands
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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