I Am Defender

Against the throws of war

I am the defender of my heart.

Poisoned arrows with sharpened tips

soar with accusations dripping down their silvery lips 

ready to puncture my every pride.

But I am the defender of my heart.

When lovers complete the idea of me 

with incomplete ideas of me, 

a hollow shell of my actuality 

is animated 

and mocks me like a cartooned parody.

I am the defender.

A patient heart is a determined heart,

not waiting, but patient. 

Indeed wading, patiently, through thick 

and sticky scores of sluts, tramps,

and hooligans, all waiting with bows and arrows in hand.

Here I stand, the shield, the man,

the only defender of my heart. 

The blade sheathed in me is sharp and quiet, 

can reduce a loose tongue to a 

removed one, and will pierce the ears of 

any fortunate enough to hear what truth I speak, 

or stab, for my blade runs deep.

And it must. Because in me, my soul has trust. 

I seek within, beyond the moths and rust, 

between the unsettled dust, 

beneath the copper crust. 

I am the defender.

When chicks play games and lick the names 

of the many men they've fucked and bent, 

I write the boards and bar my chords 

pressing ink to page while burning sage.

Needless to say, the nights are solitary 

in my home. 

I thrive by candle light, 

fire helps me write, 

the flame insist that much burns inside of me. 

The pain, the shame, the 

misery, all melt off like calories.

I exercise the defender in my heart.

I have friends in many places, some wear 

two, three, four, and five faces. 

Some are copy cats and rely on traces 

to shape their lives and like glass blown vases 

are full of hot air. 

Speak your peace or let your words rest peacefully, 

because only deeds can be 

resurrected successfully, 

and the groundsman gave the keys to me, 

I run the graveyard shift in to the early morning. 

Would you believe how many thoughts are buried in this cemetery? 

Six feet beneath actions, respectfully. 

Where is the love you ask? 

Well where do I start? Begin where it ends.

I am the defender of my heart. 

Verses

I want to love you, but

I don't know what to do about it.

I want to you kiss you, but

I am so scared of the taste.

I want to tell you how

I've waited all these years to tell you, but

I don't bother cause you've

cut off both your ears.

I think about you when

I'm out drinking alone.

I start to day dream with

the pictures on my phone.

I think I need you.

I think I'm wrong.

I feel you moving, but

it's just you moving on.

I read your articles.

I read you mind.

I think about the bank where

you save up you're time.

I'm just a dreamer.

You're just a dream.

I think you love me, but

I'm caught up in the seems.

You want to reach out, but

you don't want to seem vulnerable.

You want your freedom, but

it comes at such great cost.

You want protection.

You want control.

You want the person who

can fill up all the holes.

You're always busy.

You're never home.

You only think of me

when you feel all alone.

You say you're right.

You probably are.

You feel so close, but I

push you way too far.

You never ask me

how I'm doing anymore.

You only assume

I'm the same as once before.

You say you're sorry.

I don't speak.

We're like a sad song

broken on endless repeat.

We're seven verses sung

in discord harmony.

A dissonance heard

by ears of likened hearts.

A major melody.

A minor chord.

The sweet resolve

led into a soft encore.