Poetry Roundup #2


This longing for home

makes me do the silliest of things,

adopting rocks and lighting

candles against the dark,

and unrolling my heart

like fruit by the foot,

and cutting the stubs

where wings used to be

every time they try to grow back.


Wilted by the weight of it all,

another waning moon,

another melted snowflake,

each precious and impermanent.

And I can't let go.

Hoarding the fleeting

as it slips through my fingers

anyway, and the weight

of all that emptiness

leaves me wilted.


As the clouds drift in the way of the sun,

my mind is obnubilated, blurred by tears held back

and endless sighs, and a great field of gray.

Lost in the fog, I can't remember what I've done

and why I carpet bomb my happiness

and where all the people have gone

and why?


How many licks

to get to get to the

creamy center?

Your flavor is bitter and dirty,

I can't stomach another taste.

A lollipop in denial

that the stench is coming from you.

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