I’m No Poet

I’m no poet Though I play with words The same way you play me My silent need to provoke To earn what? Since any attention is positive And neither is something I gain from you I went out looking for you today Through red and yellow of spring Though imagined Almost if seeing grayscale Was…

Like Open Fire

Feeling warm on a cold day is a skill They say suffering is a choice But my suffering is an open battle The bleeding. The dying. And the yelling won’t cease When you’re told you’re like an atomic bomb Detonated, and everything’s gone When you feel like a stampede Like a forest fire Like open…

210903

What’s it called when you feel everything and nothing all at once? I don’t think I’ve ever understood “forever” until that day Memory is a time travelling machine There I am As I approach your corner Red brick under a bright clear future inviting me to see that sea of red While your mother attempts…