Excuse me, I love you

I wish this family never taught me,

To sever A Body’s mouth,

Its cardiac muscle,

Both innervated from the same thoughts,

Yet disconnected, a highway and we’re

Just on the opposite side. 

I exhaust Brailled words like the car’s illuminating coral engine light,

Going the wrong way, With the ambulances blindfolded untied. 

Excuse me while I swallow the roadsign of a dropped ego.

A multi - vehicle collision, where machines bleed black over the pavement,

And my eyes avert to the first time to six flags on this road,

No one can accept the invitation of a falter. 

My tongue is restless with the calcification of vocabulary I’ve been too accustomed to not putting into practice. 

Excuse me, but I hope you can pardon the heart clawing its way out, 

A polite, tidy incision down the sternum.

I felt every muscle fiber part, as the white line throbbed to the pulse of my heart's escape. 

I watched as it paraded beyond dead ends.

Excuse me, while I hold the edges together,

Trembling to remain a well mannered 

passenger, I’m starting to think good manners is just a blade.                                                   

so close to tasting the air in between tragedy,

I almost let muscle reclaim the mouth.

Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me,

A phrase that bandages the wound.

Blood keeps seeping, persistent in its futility.

Grey or silver garments get first grabs at the others - 

Laid out in their silk pajamas, while the cold black tar of the ground,

Writes a story on their cheek.

Excuse me, I love you - 

I almost shut out inherited static over the rattling death of engines.

This profound stillness feels so alive,

In my final attempt of crossing this highway, I built a rose tree,

Kept one to bridge the words,

The silence arrives.