Matthew

When Matthew vaulted into life,
He tore the womb out of her thighs,
And fashioned into a balloon,
Of hope it sailed past her eyes.

I know because I saw...

The puppet fever dance
This kid in one small glance,
Towards a life of criminality...

Arrested twice by twelve,
A dope wreck at thirteen,
And now he's sixteen,
Junked and flunked, bad dream,

A face pristine,
As beautifully obscene.
I offered him a place to stay
To get away from those who'd break his soul.

Matthew you're welcome to stay
I would whore my own dreams for your skin.
Matthew, with buttermilk hair,
Emerald eyes set in peach porcelain.

In defence
Of consequence,
You're invited cordially
To take and break and enter me,
To drag me kicking through a night
Of cruelty and sharp insight
Into the passions governing
A boy devoid of love within.

When Matthew landed square in jail
The rugged fever drained from eyes
That once could rapier hearts so pale,
Now craters empty of surprise.

I know because I saw...

Satanic ether rise,
A blackened plume of lies
Disguised as spirit
Blast from broken mouth

Up into the sky,
To meld with cumuli.
Below,
His dead heart takes a dusty shroud
Beneath the cloud,
That once had it beat loud,
A brash and angry sound.
Rheumy eyes abound.
His cellmate takes his time to ask
About our Matthew's sketchy past.
The tale inspires a morbid gasp,
"I'll kill you" comes the gravelled, vapour rasp.

Matthew bereft of the joy in destruction
That used to incite
All form of violent passion can't summon
The urge to fight.

Defences staid,
He takes a blade
A thousand screams invade,
His broken flesh,
Enjoys a livid death,
And on his final breath
There surfs a single word:
He says my name.

Matthew never loved,
His soul stood proud above
The sham veil of vulnerability.
A pragmatist lies dead,
The devil's daily bread,
And I'm the courier of his legacy.