the thickets close around my heart
barbed wire clinging to the dying grass
spreading far and wide,
only corpse eating vultures flying overhead
thrilled for their next meal
scars cover the outline of this vessel
shouldn’t winter be over by now?
the buds are itching to spring
to sprout, to bring growth
shouldn’t winter be over by now?
roots attacking tiny bushes
strangling their last supply of life
shouldn’t winter be over by now?
the dark harrowing clouds looming
over, spritzing snow over
already soaked soil
shouldn’t winter be over by now?
the stench is putrid, infusing
my throat with poisonous gases
supplying cough medicine to
suffice the disastrous chemicals
surprise, it never works
nothing works
my limbs don’t move correctly
my heart is shattered
my hands can’t feel
the parts left of my head are concussed
my brain is failing
nothing works
the frost nips at my bruised fingers
the cold whips against my neck
shouldn’t winter be over by now?
the roof caves in under the
weight of the snowfall
crashing to the floor
of the freezing factory
echoes, the bones of
the structure lay piled up
my heart still stuck inside a stone cell
still locked in with barbed
wire and spikes
in a world of devastation
starved, trapped, alone.


shouldn’t winter be over by now?

the words in my poetries are caged in my mind,
just like me.

You are gone,
yet everywhere
that I touch,
breathe,
see, with my sensitive eyes
and heart.

You are gone,
Yet we never stop looking.
We know you're out there.
Each morning we call the
hospitals,
morgues
the jails.

You are gone.
Day after day
we hear nothing.
We wonder,
we hope,
we pray that you
are alive.
That no one has hurt you too badly through the night.
That you've not hurt yourself too much to come back from.

You are gone.
Yet the shadow of you is here.
It is everywhere.
Your shadow floats down from the
moon light,
and at night
covers such deep sadness
we know then that we miss you beyond the stars.

The You
that was You..