Comfort comes
From the rhythmic rain,
Watching it stream a window pane,
Like a tear stained cheek,
Warm and wet,
Shows a sorrow
It can't forget.

brother was fury ****** around by a pair of eyes.

god
the unsuccessfully
tortured
contortionist / was road.

bedroom was the trunk of a repossessed car.  mother
was not a single
speed bump.

hotels
were dry
land.  hotels

protested

abandonment.

silence was the liquid diet
of an orphan
whose insides

glowed
with traces
of paint
found only

in river.

father was the light that as a boy he was left in.
that as a boy
I predicted
in small amounts

by blinking.

"Chill Homie.
You need to
let that **** go." - Buddha