My personal orator,
tell me a story with profound meaning.
Spin the tale of the abrasive man
who grew from a silent boy.
Feed me you unmistaken eloquence.
Let me drink in your vocal opulence.

I could stare at the sun
if I was promised I'd see your face.
I'd go blind searching for the bridge of your nose,
the crease of your eyelids, the curve of your lips.
In the visual silence I'd forever see you.
A promise held true.
Even in blindness, I'd still see you.

They say it's dangerous when a woman’s tears stop
When her heart grows cold
When even on her own, she doesn’t feel alone
When she stops waiting for your reply
And doesn't look to you to bide her time
You thought the battle was over the first time you held her
It’ll take much more for this war to be over

A chilling ceasefire
As the home becomes a house once more

No water nor tea can quench an inhuman thirst.
That which one cannot have
becomes the object of obsession.
Delusional desires spiral,
the soul caves in,
and all that remains
is this lesson you were given.

You came back
Slinking from the shadows where you’d been left.
Pathetic creature, thirsty for anything-
willing to drink poison for the sake of a smile.

Bearing the scars of my teeth in your throat,
Why force me to suffer the guilt of being cruel to you?
My thorns cut you while I veiled you in gilded tendrils.
You writhed in agony with a smile on your face-
Delirious, lost, unaware of your situation.

I could have killed you in an instant.
But I let you go.
And you came back.

You asked me to tell you
About the angels and God.
You swore you could hear them—
You just couldn’t understand.
So I told you of Michael
And how he rose to the occasion
While fixing the front door that you broke in.
You warned me to lock the deadbolt from now on.
“Don’t just lock the ****.
Use the chain too, in case I break through.”
You never could trust.
Life left you abused.

Wherever you are now,
Know that someone is praying for you.

I could thank you for raising me,
For making me who I was meant to be,
But you hated that task.
It showed in your actions, your face—I didn’t have to ask.
Yet you did make me who I am today.
I will never know trust or love in a fatherly way.
Abandoned by my own, scorned by you,
You held my mother’s hands steady as she stabbed me through.
You are the wound I was never meant to have.