14

weeping as the willow does:
constant.
unapologetic.

it never ends,
it never ends,
it never ends.

the scars down your left arm
allow even strangers in
to see the places where you've been.

this window always open
to your little world
your sad little world

and open all it can be
for it has been unhinged
its pane shattered.

an empty frame is all that's left
and all you'll ever be
to anyone
anywhere
fits within it.

5

There was a lonely upholstered chair in the corner and it faced only the empty room. Hard wood floors scratched and scuffed all over by legs of furniture long gone and sneakers, the wearers of which had long since vacated the house. He’d come here to grow up. He’d come here to die. He wouldn’t have told anyone this but he would have been lying to say otherwise.
It wasn’t about giving up on dreams, it was about getting away from nightmares. In this twilight he couldn’t see much of a difference in the two. Pride had all but vanished over the years and he’d resigned himself to its not coming back. He’d resigned himself to a great many things like that and was convinced he was at peace with them all.

This was the only kind of peace he’d ever know.

13

I’ve always got this feeling like something’s undone. I’m on the edge of my seat holding my breath and I’m missing out on precious oxygen, like there’s something I’ve just gotta do before I can do anything else but I don’t know what it is. So I can’t do anything at all. This has been going on for years.