Few people can be believed
The lips are packed with lies
Words fall as if manœuvred
To benefit selfishness’s world.

I carry the dust of deceitful
tongues, swollen, diseased
Where is cleanliness left?
‘The dog’s bowl at the door’.

Love Mary ***

mothers warn their sons about you
you’re cold disguised as warm
you’re the chest pain the broken hearted girl gets when she hears his name
the loud weep in the club bathroom
you’re the sinking feeling in a stomach
you’re everything ugly in this world and yet
i still find beauty in your crooked smile
in the birthmark just above your hip
the sound of your laugh resonates like a song you just can’t get out of your head
see love is cruel like that
you just can’t shake it
the most beautiful things are always the most damaging
you’re a storm
why else are hurricanes named after people?

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections