There is a
screaming
screeching pain
that is so raw.
It's like a
mouse caught in
a glue trap.
It must be locked
away for no one
to see or handle.

And sometimes
on moonless nights
when no one is
around, and the
owls have killed
their prey, and the
teardrops have been
bottled and sold on
the black market,
you may be tempted
to take that pain out,
like a slice of pie,
and taste it.
Be careful.
It may have
fermented and
developed a mind of
its own.

I was loved
For some time,

It was beautiful,
In between

Sunrise and
Sunset,

Alongside
Cats and candles,

While listening
To the best of

Chuck mangione
On a suit case

Record player,
That I haven’t

Touched since
I was loved,

Now I wonder
If I am deserving,

If life really open
Doors after one closes,

I’ll lay outside,
Back against the lawn,

I’ll **** on the dew
Of a freshly rained tree,

I’ll snack on the mushrooms,
And chew on sticks,

I’ll be fine,
Since I was loved.