she could sense it in the cool
November night
in the tiny red dots
that gave the horizon
its ominous light

it was something like
burning
it reminded her
of him
& it reminded her of
yearning

the turbines
grow closer with
the glow of
ambition
we grow amongst
ourselves
but with fear of
God's perdition

& it's something like
burning
it reminds us of
them
& it reminds us of
yearning

"you promised, you
promised!"
the child cried in
despair
& it bled from his
eyes into
his tired mother's
hair

someday he will learn, she
would tell herself
despite
the fact that paths, they
must be altered
when there's bridges to
ignite

& mama it's something like
burning
he reminds you so
much of
him
& he reminds you of
that yearning

I'm sorry that you
suffered
from the weight of this
sick earth
I'm sorry that a
bullet
was the way to end
your curse

I'll miss you every
moment
through minutes
through hours
through days

I'll see you in the forest
trees
through sunsets
through storms
& through gray

& baby

it's something like a
burn
it'll always remind me
of you
& the reason why
I yearn.

she forgot she
was at war
& just how much
was at stake
she swallowed the
bullet
but failed to find
just how easy
the shell was to
break

gunpowder turned
corrosive
eating through her
armored skin
--
the world turned
sanctimonious
& she became the
sin

but goddess is as
goddess does
with a promise she
takes to the
grave

"the torches they light
underneath
my feet
shall never burn
enough
to entice me to
cave."

it's mad season
here
& we cling to the
trolley
but who taught
this girl
to fight fire
with folly?

she's painting the
town
she can't stand the
aesthetic
she won't be held
down
she's unhinged, she's
frenetic

we seek shelter
from storms
she stands calmly
within them
the thunder her
song
& the lightning her
emblem

we should have
known better
than to leave her to
weather
but how do you
harness
a girl with no
tether?


one day I asked her
"of what is your
pain?"


she whispered
"my darling, it's all in
the rain."

there are two
libras
(or were they wolves?)
there is a fight inside
of me

which one do I have
courage to
starve
& which one do I
feed?


down this gravel
I know I've
been
so frequently
before

do I walk
stability
or one that's
been at
war?


felt I have the
loving hands
of the former's gentle
grace

but touched was I
by the latter's wit
& the dreams
of his embrace


there are two
libras
(they might be wolves)
that follow me
today

the one the wind
will always
love


& the one it
cast away

I am lucky
for a few days'
lucidity
before my newfound "normal"
overcast


I am lucky
for the ability to
laugh
with barbed wire
in my chest


I am lucky
for the home I
fought
with primal screams
through jagged teeth
for


I am lucky
for being loved
by others
while the sensation
feels so foreign to
me now


I am lucky
for the voice i have
waited

so, so long

to sing of all these
sorrows

time
like a record
with moments of harmony
within the ridges. there are gaps within them that make you feel as if the silence
has come to claim you,
but before you pull the needle, you start to hear the music again.

wait.

create your own patience
if you must,
my dear.


your new song has yet to
reach you.
but it will soon,
so you must fall in love
with the stillness
until then.

who would have thought

as star-like cinders
fell into the
river
the broken bridge would
at last one day
die?

& all the recollection
circling through
her mind
was her own hand
clutching the
can of gasoline
as a desperate prisoner
clutches cellhouse
bars

she didn't know why.

"it was already in flames
before you arrived,"
they would tell
her

she didn't know why.

she watched stoic
as it all collapsed into
the water
the last iron beam
that fell
ripped out a piece of
her soul
& took it under with
the wreckage

she now wanders the
weathered country roads
bare feet kissing gravel
the only affection
for miles

the vernal moon
begins to rise
& she harbors no offering,
no plea, no barter
not one word
to the unmerciful cosmos


but the bridge that
was her dying
heart