Heritage

Blank slate. Empty page,Open road,pavement crumbles with eachroll of my tires, each step of my feet. My mother ceased to existwhen I left home, I forgot myself,left somewherein the grocery aisles ofmy childhood. What happens whenI tryto go back? Can I put the road back together again,with melted shoesand beeswax? Can I sniff out the

I’ve Lost You

When reminiscing on the destituteRecall the painAnd acknowledge it by name. Scream it till you’re coarse. Fingertip glanceAt the listOf horrors you once called home. But,Anger is a candle,It’s wicked. Black,Soot lineMascara still in the wrinkles of skinBy your eyes You feel it populate yetSmile with glowing teeth. Have you never watched a candle burn?

Glimmer

Rays of light reach through the windowduring hot, steaming showers. Dust,like glitter,falls. Sunken eyes of woodwatch my every step above. The sink downstairs runs.The children outside laughto the sound of birdsong. These are moments of claritythat I crave so deeply. The opposite of trigger;Glimmer, I’ve been told,is their name. The sensation of calm.

Slots in Time

There are memories,Swimming,their detailsare brimmingnot concise,considerateof time. They ravel,they scrabble,till all I can babbleis fleeting imageryin rhyme. Blurry scenesdetails unseenforgotten-No thrusted,behind me. I’d wish they’d begottenbut somewhat forgotten,They’ll come backfor meand only. I write them in tangentsno thought to my actionsI was a different person entirely. The real me blanksaway butin daylightI’d stay,and let the

Listen To Us

Vomit already!You poison usAre we not good enough for youanymore? Is our crafted world for youtoo small now? Pitiful,ugly,freak. You could have our powerbut you won’t BE SILENTBE STILLBE SILENTBE STILL BE SILENT BE STILL. I STILL SEE YOU.

Septic

I am cornered,I am scared.Acid rises,throat burns,I am weak. Locked doors are uselessas my enemy already resides within.I’d welcome the unwavering darknessof the outside. I am trapped. Blame is shifted,angerburns the belly of this beastyet he hungers for more. It’s his own flesh and blood he feats on,I am simply meat. When will my eaten