On the worst of days, I had nightmares of civility.

the calm I once craved, that which gives me breath

the very thought fills me with dread.

Promises unfulfilled, years later, forgotten.

But this time, they’re better left lost.


I never asked for this now.

Reminders of my lacking.


On the worst of days, I could still hear

the tearing of pages. Words pushed between

feathers half-hoping no one would hear
them.


Sometimes I think you did.

Sometimes I think you heard every word I craved,

took each one and pinned them to your eyelids

just to help you remember. Because you wanted to remember


On the worst of days, I still have nightmares

of civility, or savagery, I can no longer tell.

The quiet I thought I deserved within reach

only separated by the wall of actuality.

To think the hopes pulsing so lively in my veins

saw themselves stop with no intention of returning.

To this day, I still have nightmares

even as the rain stopped pouring.