Her thin unwritten beauty
Prevailed the sadness
Between her white eyes

Her beauty may have made
Her different
Her gifts she could not hide

What was now taken
Was fully once embraced
Her sound of the undertakers face
Scared off by her grace

The end.

The two women in his life

One had long black hair

One had long red hair

One he kicked out of the car during an argument

The other was the one kicking him out

One he lived with

One he married

One he left behind

One left him behind

The first was named Jasmin, like the flower or the oil. A name found in gardens and hung over arches

The other named Grace, notes of eternity laced her name. The softness of a ballet dancer intertwined in a single syllable

He should’ve stayed with the flower. I believe she loved him more

In this life
we are sculpted down
to bone
burned to cinders
and our ash
tossed without regret
into the four winds

I wish I could live.
Be a man.
Find comfort in the sun.

But every cell in my body
revolts against time
cries out against the sun
speaks in tongues
for the sole purpose
of creating an outrage
against God.

Oh Lord!
How did you make us thus?
And why?
Above all
why?

We are made metal
and in the end
alloy with the sun.

Our breath is drawn
to fuel that fire
bring life to a boil
and
if luck prevails
to wake each morning
in comfort
and with a smile.

Perhaps the last sweet smile.

To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.

the leaves
have emotion too.
they like to hang out,
they really do.

they don’t like being stepped on
they hate the

crunch.

Remember
How you became
When you wanted
To hurt me
The souvenirs
On my skin
Red, purple
And black
The truth is
I would have
Worn the bruises
As a jewel
Gifted by you
But not anymore
As I pulled out
All the stuffing
From inside of you
Like a rag doll
And rested you
Deep…
Down…

I feel nothing now
My feelings are trapped inside
A machine called heart

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