You came to me when you were blue
I feared that awful dreaded hue
You told me to let go of you
But this one task I could not do
We left apart, our separate ways
I then had longed for better days
I held my heart through all the fray
Still bleeding dry in its decay
You held the key to fill me up
Pour all the love back in this cup
To sew the hole and seal it shut
And make me feel to not give up
I have you now and you have me
Oh how happy we can be!
From dusk to dawn, I hope you see
How much this heart is filled with glee
The future is so far away
So please do stay for better days

Broken miscommunication,
building on our frustrations,
with the strangers that we live with.

Fabrics of our families fraying,
our history, we love erasing,
anything to break the natural bond.

We don't want to be alone,
but we don't want to share the world,
so instead we live in darkness.

I live for the people I meet,
my neighbors aren't strangers to me,
why close the blinds when you can let in the light?

The world we know lives in the dark,
hoping to avoid that benevolent spark,
that's why I'm here holding the torch.

Hanging turtles and
Netted birds of amenity
Dangle from her
Left hip like jewels ‘neath a,
“Ming,” ear as she traverses
Mountains beholden kitchens
And one more rise come setting splendor.
Supper may be atop the right, pelvis,
But opposite and left,
Rests the flask, bitter in chase of sanity.

I’m sure the scant pebble
Rattling in between
Her stomach and sorrow
Was nothing more than
A desperate thirst opposed the
Blister born benevolence,
Thirst opposed execution
And a coin converted spirit opposed,
“Xie xie,” (thank you), a platitude,
As heads clip pavement,
Blood pales a gutter,
Or soon-to-be feast’s final throes,
A bleeding and breeding for other,
Leading jitter-beholden mice to flee,
For they may be next
So future’s victuals arrive
Unhindered.

All and assumptive, assistance and rendered,
She walks away with only this –
Everyone’s emaciated
And the butcher on the street is still a butcher,
A peddler, a savior, and butcher again;
A source, be it left, right or wrong,
In need of a drink, as we all are,
With only the means, “take me to the sip,”
And by dollar come pocket born you.

She paves the path
Of dynasties carved
With buckets of sludge upon back;
Bent, not unlike her mother’s limb,
But under shinier red flags,
Cloth coated, with lesser blood.

She’d had a hint of gray
She’d not had last time,
She had a newer limp
She’d not had last time,
Her ***** furthered from firm,
Reaching for the ground, a promise,
In years to be wed with,
And yet the underneath
Of it all remained as radiant
As any sun’d ever been;

And come the cloudy day she leaves,
Even mine own eye
Will remain far from dry
As I’d remember freshly cured bacon,
And her tender chopsticks offering life;
She’d saved me once, she’d save me again.