1997
the roots of my family tree
are shallow and malnourished,
breaking through the Earth's skin as a reminder
that it cannot always keep the ugly
hidden underneath.
my DNA is a life sentence for a crime
I never wanted to commit.

1999
my father called my brother a king
before he even left the womb.
a solar eclipse that has lasted years
because of my inability to escape his shadow;
though, I'm not sure I ever will.
the world will always be his stage,
and I, just a poorly constructed backdrop.

2005
my skin has turned
black and blue back into flesh.
I hope, one day,
my mind takes a lesson from my body
and learns how to forget you.

2011
they call him the all merciful god,
and I can't help but to laugh,
because the only thing he promised
to those who hurt me was forgiveness.
I prayed up until the day
god changed his phone number.
atheism is a learned behavior;
I only wonder when god stopped
believing in me.

2015
I live my life in reverse.
I drink coffee at midnight,
read the epilogues first,
go to bed in the morning.
I spent my childhood in this grave,
now it is time to dig myself out.

My eyes burn
Like smoldering ashes have been thrown on my chest
I now know it's time for me to rest
But thoughts mock me when I try to sleep
They bear down hard
Like a car moving downhill
There's a turtle in its way
Then I awake
And I realize that I mistake
What I thought was reality
Was just a dream
But it frightens me because I don't know what it means
And as I think
It stops me from going to sleep
But I still remain sleepy

I have been reading some literary pieces;
For their words soothes me, deeply.
Though some meant a bleeding heart,
Still gives me enough encouragement.

That, is only to find myself hanging -
both craving and puking those words.
Realized that art can be an escape for some
but not for yours that is longing.

Longing for words not from authors
but from the person who means to you.
For she can form words but he can't
That even absorbing those words, he can't.

Each day so drastic,
One marked by
sweet, soothing hot cocoa
dripping with white foam
and twists and turns
of enthusiasm rooted
in my stomach

The other,
preyed on by
the overbearing abyss
of poisonous thoughts
dressed in satin and lace

And now the start of a new day,
the sun still tucked away
for hours to come,
perhaps hiding from
the vile thoughts
of the dark sky

It's everything,
but it's nothing.
I'm nothing,
I'm nothing.

as he sits in the pews between his alcoholism and his wrath,
I wonder if he feels more at home among those sinners
than he ever felt with me.

they say the tongue is the strongest
muscle in the human body,
but his locked jaw has wounded me more
than any weaponry he contains behind those teeth.

a phantom limb I am plagued with:
sometimes, I feel like he cares.
sometimes, I hurt at words he never speaks,
like have a safe flight,
or you have always been enough.

in church, we were taught
that the words god and father were interchangeable.
when I stopped believing in god,
I wonder if he watched his bloodline run thin.
I wonder if it ached.

Oh how wonderful words are
They can empower
they can uplift
they can entertain giving someone the courage to attain their dreams
Oh how powerful words are
They can cut deep they shatter dreams killing one's ambition to never achieve.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum

Hot water, lights out
Ten, eleven, twelve
I always come back again
My stomach, rolling and rolling
Pushing and pulling
Yelling and smashing
At me
Should I be sorry?
"The winter is just messing with me"
Messing with my head,
While I'm messing with the heater
I'm playing with my life
Just trying to be sweeter
Messing up the sheets,
Pulling them closer
Scratching at my skin,
The ceiling all in colors