the thorn trees

Torn by thorn tips
because we dragged each other
through thorn-trees,
always with the intention of torture.

With us,
that war was necessary.
Although it was done
amateur and chaotially.

The result is we’re
beyond the unresolved sadistic intentions
to inflict misery.

But now we’re caught up
   in a thorn-tree.

I guess fucking angels belong in Heaven.
That’s such
a sick thing for God
to do.
To keep the nicest things
for hiself.

I guess this circle was meant to be
Broken wings make angels sing
a song of human-error.
And error makes us beautiful:
Let’s fill their eyes with terror.

What are angels, anyway?
Men made into
God’s special minions,
or his ready-made special pets?

I don’t believe in Heaven,
though Hell is
inside a lot of minds.

This is dedicated to my angels
I’ve torn
over and over
by dragging through thorns /
and    vice    versa
human error makes us beautiful.
I scraped you up with thorns.

copyright: C. Ward 2017
– crickle-bot publishing 


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