There's a pain in my chest.
I can't shake it.
I must share it.
Because, believe it or not,
everyone likes to hurt a little.

Once I was nothing
but blood
and bones
and guts.
There I am!
See me?
My insides smashed on the pavement
like a squirrel
crushed by your recklessness.

Your ego
it shines brighter than ever.
A gleaming zirconia necklace
"ON SALE FOR JUST 10.99!!"
Go ahead, dull it some
before it turns a neck green.
Bottoms up!
The phone glued to your hand
while there I rot
picked at by birds and stray dogs.

I carry this pain with pride.
I wear it like a conference name tag.
"Hello, my name is
ROADKILL"

Why wouldn't I?
Someone will scrape my bones
off the blacktop
and wear them as jewelry.
My body, my words,
will be their name tag.
Because some can display pain
with pride.
And corpses
feed the soil.

Bloom on.

He was engrossed in his performance
in the enthralled silence of the audience
catching the subtlest notes from the instrument
as his supple fingers played with the strings
erupting into the finest blend of ragas
freeing the souls of all the stress
converging his heart into his music
eyes closed as in a transcendental state.

But I could not concentrate.

The face behind the beard and the unkempt hair
was familiar.

From a long distant day
I remember those fingers performed in a different way.

The afternoon I came back from school
and mom told me her monies were missing
and he was the only visitor to her room
waiting in the pretext of meeting me
but after a while leaving hurriedly.

He confessed and the money was recovered
but never again the breached trust.

The audience rose in ovation fingers clapping
my own frigid in remembrance
of another performance.

Feed her the scraps
of your being.
She will eat it up
without thinking twice.
But she will still be
hungry.

Feed her the lies
or whatever is convenient
She doesn't mind to pick out
the gristle
because every piece of it
is attached to a morsel
of sweet
delight.

Feed her the silence of
unspoken discontent
the empty eyes
the empty bed
the thrills that serve as
distraction
because you can't bear to hear
the voice
that rings inside
your skull.

Like a dog, she
waits
with pleading eyes
and an endless appetite
for you.

But even the most
unfortunate mutt
deserves more than
a full belly,
but also
a mind
at ease.