I'm sure my little poems,
  have no chance of getting
    anything "Done".
In a World of "Seven"
   thousand languages
       I know "One".

What happened to you?—the Question hangs—
A specter on the Air—
There’s Something—gnawing at the Bones—
And Madness stirs in There—

A Sin—a Stain upon the Flesh—
No Cleansing can Repeal—
The Laughter of a Distant Hell—
Resounds—a Brazen Peal—

He struck—Repeatedly—a Thorn—
Against a Petaled Grace—
And claimed—the Fracture of her Soul—
Was not—a Man’s Disgrace—

"I feel—quite Fine"—the Monster said—
Before the Hunger came—
And ripped away—the Veil of God—
To stoke—an Ancient Flame—

She fled—a Wolf without her Cloak—
To Secrets—of the Trees—
While Echoes of his Jagged Cry—
Rose on the Timid Breeze—

No Answers—Waited on the Hill—
No Truth beneath the Stone—
But Evidence—of what Was Done—
Is Etched—in Flesh and Bone.

Mascara smeared,
a black flag raised in surrender,
bare feet pressing into Earth—
pregnant weight pulls her down,
and the doors—
they don’t swing,
don’t creak,
just stay shut like the mouths of saints.

She was supposed to be invisible,
but the mirror laughed,
its reflection catching the outline of her face,
the philosophy of being—
full of answers no one asks for,
full of consequence.

She saw them—
red-handed in their stolen kiss,
the air thick with the scent of betrayal,
a forbidden sacrament.
She wept,
not for the kiss,
not for the woman,
but for the rip,
the spill of her life
on a floor too clean
to keep her.

He stumbles in guilt,
tripping over mistakes like loose wires.
His hands full of her tears,
his mouth heavy with excuses—
a cheater,
a coward,
a man drowning in his own reflection.

And she,
pregnant with something heavier than grief,
lets the Earth hold her steady,
lets the mascara stain her cheeks
like war paint,
lets the world fold itself around her silence—
because the doors might not open,
but her hands,
her feet,
her eyes—
they will.

Buried inside my chest
something strange has set,
slowly it aches in the hidden hollow,
             between my rib cage and heart.

There, where nothing ever was before, now
throbs a sorrow against the inside.

It scalds and sings in over a thousand languages and notes.

But the only voice that I can hear
is a child’s howling.

she called me a ****,
as if the word could sink into my skin
and define the person i am.

but i am not that
(couldn’t be farther than that).
i long for what she can’t see—
a love that is honest,
a connection without walls,
a trust that doesn’t crumble
when the world’s gaze turns sharp.

her words aren’t true,
but they still found their mark,
like arrows tipped with shadows.
it hurts,
not because i believe her,
but because she believed
that tearing me down
was easier than understanding me.

i am not what she said.
i am someone
who loves deeply,
who craves meaning in a world
that so often refuses to give it.
she doesn’t know me,
but i know myself.
snd that has to be enough.

and yet, what hurts the most
is that she knows me.

there was a wishing well
on the boardwalk. a fountain

spewing yellow and blue water.
I reached into the pool

grabbing change.

crossed the street
and spread the wet
green change across the bar

and got a beer.

2 a.m.

just in time for the turtle races.

so I rushed across the street
to get money for beer
and to bet on the race.

she was kneeling
in front of the wishing well.

she told me her name was Destiny.

the green-dyed water
dripping from her clenched fingers.


DESPERATE LOVE was the turtle
we picked. a 40 to one shot.

Destiny and me
spread the wet change
across the bar,
placed our bet...


...right after the fight
the cops arrested Destiny. the green

dye. she never washed it off
her hands, her arms.

Desperate Love came in first.
I took the winnings and bailed
Destiny out of the county jail.

it was love at first sight.

...meanwhile,

we're back at the wishing well...

I want to cry
But instead I write poems
And sob through them

That first night
When I lost him
I went to my backyard
Looked up at the stars
Picked one and decided
That was my dog Sandy

On my hands and knees
I cried to it hours
Outside in the cold
Asking why he left me
To face this world
Alone

I told him
How id never forgive him
But please come back
I miss you so much
It's all I ask

I made sure he knew
That I was sorry I didn't walk him that day
That I wish he would be there on my bed
Lying next to me
That I miss his bad breath
And even his high-pitched barks

My mom comes to get me
Also in tears
"What can I do?"
She asks
"Bring him back"
I answer

And now
Whenever I miss him
I pick a star
And using my mind
I talk to him again
Knowing that he doesn't actually hear me
But still taking comfort in it