sorry i haven’t been by in nights
ive been on the high and drunk
running after your unrequited children
do you know how hard they live
the chance to win is really small
walking with your zombie children
we’ve learned a lot about the battle
whispering strategies into starving ears we crawl
above the city and her walls praying
dusting lime on dying children
at night we hold our knees tight chests broken
we wish see light while dark slips by unseen
the road moves fast we bend to it alone
the day its stars do smile at will between
your soul sore hands do beg for any mercy
our arms in flames scream out stop now unspoken
her eyes dull knives blood shot tits dried starving
with you i die in vain no chance running
even she tires
in between struggle
hidden from eyes
who quickly judge
are corrosive agents
of our waste
since we forget
time quit healing
all of our
human error trespasses
we point out
aggressions and judgment
cajole cancel postpone
ridicule doubt denigrate
shoot kill regulate
all for nothing
long gone are the days
my black back pack torn on the left side
my pencils and pens leaking poking into me and each other
between the barely cracked calculus and English literature text books
hid my shame
granules and grams of daze
smoke screen of reality
that monument to beyond desperation
magic and inaudible inside the halls
carpets the only witnesses
to the end of that road
paved with bad intentions all the way
men and women have become a mush
in the gut of torn illusion
bile dripping from its fangs
a smell of the bottom line of nothingness
lingers in my eyes as tears collect like astonished ladies
my right Doc lost somewhere on the 8th floor
my spirit mortgaged to the deceiver
who at the end of the spectacle
is not the one to blame
there are no rhymes roses stars or razor blades
just a fleshbone ghost out of place
man o war spirit
time silent paralysis
wafting through my walls
if we could be safe in our seats we could share of our misery shed tears and sometimes maybe smile just because we’ve learned to navigate it doesn’t mean we deserve less than this we too like softness color flowers and art we too like chicory coffee and 5 dollar donuts we too understand the worth of work the taste of sweat and the temperature of let blood we are dignified in our wreckage we stand tall in your false shame we smile kindly forgivingly at your hollow grief for us today we sit on this humble chair where when asked we dissect our terrors and we remain grateful to this stoic chair for holding our hands as we let loose of our fears
in that place
quietly she lives
nobody knows clearly
when or how
her smile stolen
yet she remains
silent like mice
under the rain
eyes deep brown
only dark matter
they have seen
why i wonder
words less spoken 