We are the ones
that lie
in your beds, or to your faces.
We just want to fill
your spaces,
okay ours,
maybe
both?
We never meant to hurt you.
but heartbreak?
is inevitable,
and when
if ever tears fall,
we are not the ones
to call, that is,
we are the heart
ripping love stealing
smile and sleep with your boyfriend,
those girls—
we are the liars
the dark that was left
behind but keep in mind
someone made us
this way.
We were once you
but that was yesterday.
I exist in the pride of the sun
I also exist in the slyness of the moon
I exist with the joy of the wind
And exist in dull of the dirt
I run like the hyper children
But rest like their tired parents
I flow with the river
And am held stationary with the trees
I was five years old
an innocent, harmless child,
not a care in my world,
my universe.
My grandmothers were rocks,
one great, one mother.
They gave me the confidence to
not feel like an alien
(not of this world).
The one great?
She’s gone…
Gone like a toy you’ll never find,
a puzzle piece dumped in the garbage.
The worst part?
I remember the morning.
Why?
Because I was right next to her,
blissfully sleeping and oblivious.
That night…
That night…
I saw the face of death.
And he’s…he’s not a skeleton.
He’s not even a he.
Wings so white, they shine like the heavens,
a cloak of white, gliding beneath its feet.
But its face…
Too cruelly beautiful to describe,
too absently horrid to remember.
I have seen the face of God,
not man,
not woman,
but all perfection and glory (intimidating).
War.
I have seen war.
I’m sure it was a dream, but
it seemed too real…
angels fighting for her soul,
demons dragging her down,
the devil’s arms around me, telling me,
“So, so pure. I’ll take you with glory.”
And then…
And then…
And then…
I woke up.
And the great one was dead
right next to me…
Sure didn’t go peacefully, but
for then, I was almost complete,
but then, a year later my grandmother died…
Another story, but
she went the same,
stolen by death, taken in her sleep.
My grandmothers’ last words?
“Live…for me.”
Where were you last night?
my wife snaps at me
as I stumble through the door
drunk as a lying man could be.
I stare at her green eyes.
She can see past my unbelievable lies.
Her mouth moves as it’s done before,
spitting, cursing, yelling.
But her violent words don’t stop the room
from spinning or me from caring.
Her hand slaps my numb face
and tries to put me in my place.
A door slams.
Our window shatters.
I pass out on the couch.
Nothing matters.
I finally awake from my deep slumber.
Boy oh boy what a bummer!
The house is empty.
I can’t believe she left me.
I slowly arise
and to my surprise
everything in the house is gone,
well, her stuff anyway.
I walk around the house
looking for clues.
Where did she go?
No one knows.
Sleeping in tears
My pillows soaked
With regret
Farewells seem unfair
Goodbyes provide bad hellos
Detrimental to imaginative conquest
Leaving my thoughts
In cruel reality
Surrounded by the tragedies
Kept captive in actuality
Where no one moves in optimism
Conforming towards society’s gloom
When practicality
The world seems to miraculously
Bloom roses from the nooks and crannies of concrete
The scarlet of the rose collides with the grayness of existence
Spreading the colors like wild fire
While minds are bleak
This miracle of colors remain unseen