Thirds to Nothing

Indifferent to the pain
Well knowing I should feel 
Something    I fill the bottom
Legs on formica
The shower flows
No   It looks down quietly
And I feel    Nothing

Everything comes with thought
Through tongue it's bought
Like hand-me-downs
On the front lawn
Pickers fill their bags
My old trash a new jewel
For the less fortunate
Liquid salt penetrates 
Rubs   Bumps  The wounds
And I heal    Nothing

No salt left to spill 
From tiny ducts
Just lavender bubbles
No smell tricks the mind
Like that purple veil
Or a magnolia    A warm day 
In the state of the Blues
And I care about   Nothing

We're all gone   Doors slammed
Locked and abandoned
Breast bare I soak 
In this porcelain boat
No clue how to trim the fat
Off a beaten horse
Where do I stick the facts
Who do I give report
With no lead   From before
Soldered keys in hand
And I turn for    Nothing

We fill my eyes with regret
Pressure   A rush of blood
A slap of remorse
Loss    My grievance
For the pair that lie
Wrapped in a black box
Hanging to fill a plot
To land an eternal rest
And I cry for    Nothing

Caught by the moment
We first swapped eyes   
Lights flipping  Floating 
Flickering the sky   That night
Freedom fled with our gaze
We didn't meet   Still    For days
But it was over    Before 
The seven years we shouldered
We kept licking teeth and gums
Though the time had come
Gone    We played out this song
And I feel    Nothing

~Zedley Webber
2014