what is it boy?
all the things that haunt you
is it your mirror image?
in  it can you see yourself
after what you’ve done?

the winds of change are roaring
under smothering Whatcom skies
where hangman streetlights sprout
from asphalt cracks
as I drag my shell home

and I thought I was stronger than this

God shed a single tear that day
I felt it
in the cry for forgone rites
and the slow decay of a grand design
star crossed and fading though the moment was
for one who couldn’t leak
in shock, like
the **** happened? Again.

cradle the hopes
carry the hurt
I share the burden of her tears
I have the burden of her tears
I’ll not sleep tonight

first you stand
then you kneel
before you  give in
it’s a slow death

unlike the hangman’s noose

my hands shake

I don’t know what comes next