ivory hands gripping my
shoulders a little too tight
to be forgiving
i tell them that i'm sorry,
and they know what i mean,
their smiles fade and the black
holes on their faces start to furrow
and i explain that it's not
quite time, not yet
i still haven't worked up the guts
to let them out
but they've heard this spiel before,
and it's getting harder to
silence the rattling, a myriad of
skulls and ribs that i can no longer
my secrets have me...yes. Wow that smashed my heart - love it!
Just a grammar thing -- "myriad" basically means "a lot of," so you don't use the "a" nor the "of." It's just "myriad": "myriad skulls," in this case. The editor in me is coming out.
It's a lovely piece, overall. Nice work.
for who knows the meaning of the poem but the author
as for grammar,
what great poet follows the rules?
or even chooses to complete a word when it benefits him not to?
I defend your usages,
an artist is not defined by rules,
but rather the rebellion of them.
Did I mention, I love this work?