Blindspots

once known a perfect man
permanent and suave, a statue
of determination and compassion
no stones unraveled, hands built houses
wiped off children tears and consoled all
snuggled words, coy and uplifting
to find his secret was shattering
 the impact on which I have yet to recover
fully understood, digested akin to his thrown
the cracks in his tempered armor akin to rapture
the ages themselves froze my anguish
what to do? shivers and general state of panic

the blinds are down, the light dim
the sunlight is exhausting and deepening
in the measure of feeding sadness
creeps through me eating away
at the cage bars relentless, starving
eager to shake off the sores of stillness
to hold that thought entirely
suspend the breakdown and regain control
intervene anew, positive that completion is key
whatever caused it, I'll outlive it stronger

however bitter, raw and crude
disfigured and scarred
sweeter whispers within the closet
clawed by demons that chose to hide inside

one should not be foiled by digital disregard
nor the starry nights caused by fireworks
or the blabber of spitfire words
anent my heart, stand by the knockdown
hitting the deck is a gift
the blind-spots of picking up deep
solace in friends and whatever rings true
a thunderstorm under my skin
ragged by words in turmoil
so the music will have to do
the promise will have to hold
my better side will have to shine through.