Gods, you’re terrible with dice.
Playing, ignoring the price
it costs us all when you roll.
Don’t you know you’re gambling souls?
Your coin is hearts, not diamonds
to be split up for your funds.
You say you’ll share the winnings,
that in the end we’ll be kings.
But when we are merely pawns
forced to play your game in bonds,
our end sees us locked in stocks,
chained and sent to mine the blocks
for building the Capital
where you’ll sit to roll and hedge
your bets against any edge
we could ever hope to gain.
Gods, you’ve caused enough pain -
but we know your weighted die
still beats everything we try.

Fervency referring to effectuality as measured
by men,
I suppose. Positionally, top line.
Challenges are not all games,
all games are challenges.

That which he fears comes.
Anticipate war, teach your son to
access participation trope level
anticipatory experience
imagining dying
now
design a death that does not damage, eh,
no damming, no pile of useless hordes,
dammed to collect the flow
anticipating need
when need is non exist-ant.

Greedy gut.

I like to think that my body
has forgotten you.
and how your hands fit
perfectly in the curve of my waist,
how you kissed my neck,
and right between my shoulder blades,
how you used to pick me up
and I'd wrap my legs around you,
how you whispered "i love you"
and my name sounded sacred on your tongue.
How you squeezed my hand rhythmically,
and I would make a game of copying it back.
How you showed me, in every way,
that I was your definition of perfect.
How you sang that I was the only girl
who keeps your planet green.
but it hasn't.
My body, my waist, my neck.
My heart, my mind, my soul.
I haven't forgotten
how it felt,
when you loved me.

God your name
feels so foreign to write
those five letters once
told me what I thought my future would be.

I speak it as infrequently as possible,
nearly whispering it when I must.
As if, somehow, if I speak it too loudly,
I'll lose myself in it all over again.

The soap in my shower smells like you,
so I bought my own.
I was left wondering what you were doing,
at 4:36pm on a Sunday afternoon.

You favorite color appears
in the strangest places, unexpected.
I know it should go unnoticed,
why did you have to love such a bright color?

my body almost forgets what it feels like
to be loved by you
my lips almost forget the taste of you
and then it all rushes back

i don't shatter anymore.
when i miss you,
i ache.

no matter how I deny it
there are some days
that I just need you
your arms, your face, your lips
to tell me that I'm strong
and that you believe in me

realizing that my first love
will not be my last
has been the most painful and beautiful experience
i've ever gone through

i will never
let you back in
or so i say
the truth is
no matter how much
i've grown stronger
and changed for the better
if you really wanted to
your curly hair
and silver fire eyes
could probably
steal
my
heart
right back
as if you had never
broken it 3 times over
in the first place

**** him
i wanna take
my own breath away