Truly, It Comes As No Surprise
Truly, it comes as no surprise
to see you again with your
enflamed face and bloodied eyes
and your harsh, unending, hellish cries.
I say, I’ve known this face before
from beneath sleepless eyelids sore
from tears and terror-stricken nights
and clouded skies and blinding lights
and subtle knocking at my door.
Truly, it comes as no surprise
to hear you again, as within
my own heart sinks and organs rise
to fill my mouth with blood and lies
I swallow before your very eyes.
Like an old friend you stop by
of bygone days to reflect and query why
my brow is fresh and eyelids dry
my hands are clean and dreams are sweet
and how dare I hold my head so high!
Like a tender father you bend the knee
stroke my cheek and ask of me
how I could’ve strayed from the
only way you’ve taught to me
and ventured past the gate to see
from beyond the hills the sunlight rise
and dry this pair of tear-stained eyes
—no, indeed, your thought of me
—truly, it comes as no surprise.
