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Bruised fruit Mar 2019
Fierce clouds sweep over sky
Cold heavy rain
On a warm summers night
Grains of sand cradle my feet
The infinite depths
Beckon me
Distant light flickers
As roars echo in
Summoning sounds of crumpled tin
Steadily I step
As the current holds no sway
The deep and I are comrades
At least for today
Black water rips
Wearing only a grin
Indignant dark waves
Collide with my skin
My fathomless friend
So unknown
The deeper I go
The more I feel at home
Bruised fruit Mar 2019
Feathers dance in a plume of smoke
and fall like snow
they speckle my hair and bedsheets

Broken is as broken does
a conscience torn like fabric that holds
down that goes up into clouds

I’ll mend it again and sew up the hole
cover myself in what once was
held together by stitches

With the pieces in place
again I find warmth
drifting off into an eluding slumber
Ink
Bruised fruit Mar 2019
Ink
With this pen in my hand
I let myself sink
Into the ink
Only then can I finally hear myself think
Bruised fruit Mar 2019
Lay your hell on me
I’ve been to that pit before
I know my place there

— The End —