She cries tears of mother's ruin
"Look at me!
It's been so hard
All of my life
And I've had to fight
For my own patch of light
Still, no-one ever looks at me"

He turns his eyes to the floor
Saying nothing
Feeling stupid
And his words burst like bubbles in his mouth
He is desperate to say something
Anything to make her happy
But he cannot turn disappointment
Back into youthful optimism
Or bitterness back to hope
As she sinks into smeary sobs
Wet and bleary loss
He takes her home

He undresses her and puts her to bed
Then he holds her as she cries
And he holds her as she sleeps
He hushes her when she stirs
And calms her when she starts and cries out
When the dreams become too real
And he shall never be more than this
Never more fulfilled
Caring for her is his only purpose
Making her happy is his holy grail
Willingly trapped within her pain
He is nothing else at all

                               By Phil Roberts

It's gonna be okay, it's just rain.
Because i don't want to get wet.
I always keep dry under my umbrella.

Anonymous. 12/14/2015.
©2015 Trevon S. Haywood.

Here I go
I'm doing it. Yes, yes I'm actually doing it.
blink. blink. blink. blink.
Oh Come on,
Just speak from the heart, I know you can do it,
blink. blink. blink. blink.

Hurry up you can do this.
tick. tick. tick. tick.
One minute, five minutes, ten minutes, an hour.
Think of the past, Think of regret,
No, stay in the present.
tick. tick. tick. tick.

Breathe in, breathe out, listen to your heart beat.
one. two. three. four.
okay here I go.
I'm stuck here aren't I?
I'm trapped with thoughts of goodbye.
one. two. three. four.

Stop digging yourself into a deeper hole.
one foot,
two feet,
six feet under.
trapped in a box,
forever, ever after.
*four. three. two...

Maybe I liked it because the smoke stinging in my lungs covered up the sting in my heart from you
Or maybe I just liked the way it looked in between my fingers.
I could only smoke half before it made me nauseous
I put it out but I still kept you tightly pursed between my lips.

I cause pain,
But I don't mean to,
I make people cry,
But I don't mean to,
I shout at the top of lungs wildly,
But I don't mean to,
I scratch at my skin till blood comes,
Wishing I were someone else,
Because I inflict horror,
But I don't mean to.

cold stones line the ***** streets
everyone gone home for a drunken one night stand
leaving the intrepid hero to his own means
he stands, alone but free
chained by only his own creations
when did the hero die?
a thin shadow of the greatness he could have once been
the time for stories are over
its time for the hero to die

Have you ever seen
the earth give birth
to a new day at the
bottom of a whiskey bottle.

Well neither have I,
but I once stayed up all night
in an attempt to count the stars
and bring order to chaos.

In that moment,
head against grass against ground
I knew what it means to rest,
to be at peace for the first time.

Like all things that night it too
died along with peace and stars,
but sometimes in the right moments.
I can look up and feel at home.

I went high in mountains
Calling god from the peaks
Screaming to the void
Yet I heard nothing but wind.

I went to the temple
Praying on my knees
Seeking him in alter
Trying to find his name.

In the city I sought
Our lord in the face of
The beggar who knows
him better than me.

But when I found him
He dwelled not in temples
Or mountains tops
But only within me.

This morning,
my father and I
chased leaves together
after we argued for an hour
on relationship complexities.
And after a while of paved palms,
he bellowed with a fistful of yellow,
when you waver with the wind,
things will fall in your favor.
Since this morning, the wind
has been wavering Eastward.

© Matthew Harlovic