A poem by Henry Rollins


 You climb, and climb. Hand over hand. 

You reach the top. 

You stand on the shaky edge of your heart. 

You look in her eyes.

You hold your breath and jump. 

You Leap into her arms. 

Her arms fall at her sides.

You fall past her window.  You hit the ground. 

You are shattered. 

All broken up, like someone taking a bottle,

and dropping it onto the ground.

All busted up. 

Sharp jagged broken pieces of yourself lying on the ground.

You put the pieces back together again.

They never go back quite the same.

The outside is seamless and smooth.

But inside, broken glass mind and soul with little cracks in the sides

and loose splinters at the bottom.

They stay to remind you. 

At times the soul glass splinters will give you a jab

to remind you of your leap.

After a time when you start climbing again

you will forget about the soul glass splinters.

She can break your fall, or let you fall and break.

And every time you jump

You just know she’s going to catch you.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. slpmartin says:

    Really enjoyed this post…thanks for sharing it.

  2. Anon says:

    I can’t stand Henry Rollins. He’s like the “James Franco” of punk. Barf me out!

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