is what I find as I rummage through
trembling, red, ever-stored drawers
cardboard corners, caved in at points,
the rattle, rattle, rattle of little elbows
My mother's gentle scolds on harsh winter nights,
as my brother and I tucked them in at our sides,
off the old wooden table that would splinter you when bored
awaiting this rare, cheesy delicacy,
our saving grace, my mother's last resort,
and our beams were contagious
as ketchup painted smiles on warm plates
Withstanding the test of time,
even as childhood does not, and
I grow and fall in love with a woman
other than my mother, as we walk back from class,
palms acquainted, blush dusting ruddy cheeks- faintly
then we slide, side by side, into an old booth
with our meal- a bowl of Mac 'n cheese to share
one spoon, I swoon, as she smiles a smile
not even ketchup could capture;
so here I stand, swaying slightly
my lips, a wistful smile, bare feet on cold tile,
tucking my elbows in, real tight
the ghost of her delicate hands, holding
just one forgotten cardboard box
and the many worlds it unlocks.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 2:14 PM UTC
Come now, my friend, don’t be shy,
grab my calloused hand, look to my stormy eyes
don’t be afraid to take a stand,
this thing we can’t outrun:
Ourselves.
So sing along to the song of the
Broken Ones.
Can’t afford to exclude,
no one wants to intrude,
we’re all alone,
only flesh and bone,
painfully human
Humming along to the song of the
Broken Ones.
We sing the pain
that we have felt,
trauma-stained thoughts
as we belt
The only thing we know
and then we’re done
as we sing the song of the
Broken Ones.
Not holding back, we’ve
accepted rejection.
We’re good on our own,
it’s all that we know.
Don’t need your protection,
take your pity and go,
there’s no real connection,
they can’t see through our
shattered glass,
reflection warped,
just like us,
they can’t make out our song,
the song of the
Broken Ones.
A troop of ragged rough,
cynical scarred wanderers,
Are we found,
or lost together?
We bring our own condemnation,
this dark, punishing nether,
by singing the song of the
Broken Ones.
We think we’re alone,
But that’s where we’re wrong
‘cause when we sing our song, the
Broken World
hums along.
Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 2:12 PM UTC