I thought you were an ally,
but walls divide, and I

don’t see a way around
this tonight.

You can’t avoid the fallout,
because being dead inside

isn’t a good reason
to sidestep

when you told
all those lies.

Just look me
in the eyes,

tell me it was worth
bleeding what was left of me

one last time.

I know there’s
the devil in the details,
but as far as I can tell,

I’m over it, and
I’m done seeing red.

Live your own
life in sin,

because I won’t live
my life with your regrets.

i cried a river;
it wasn’t enough -
to whet my wits,
and call your bluff.

i tried a thing,
or two, in vain;
i could not escape
the house of pain.

i lied to you -
didn’t occur to me,
‘t’d be so hard
to agree to disagree.

i hide away
my bother; i coy -
hush the man, and
play the boy.

i ride along -
for i’ve lost my way;
bide my tongue…
do as you say.

i denied myself
the right to speak:
i waived my voice
to the cackle of
the creek.

One day my daughter will ask me why,
Her gaze will pierce like the evening sky.
"Why don't you believe in God, my dear?"
I’ll answer softly, voice tinged with fear.

"There was a time when faith held me tight,
Its whispers soothed through the longest night.
But wounds I bore were too deep to hide,
And doubts grew strong as the pain inside."

"Perhaps, one day, His grace will descend,
To heal the cracks no soul could amend.
For now, I tread where the shadows cling,
Hoping for dawn that new light might bring."

"Each heart must walk through its trial alone,
A fragile rhythm, a muted tone.
Some rise with strength, while others will fall,
Yet none escapes their own curtain call."

"Christ taught of love, a warm, endless stream,
A truth that glows like a vivid dream.
If hunger strikes, give bread to the lost,
And love without counting the painful cost."

"Beware of those who twist sacred words,
Who wound with tongues as sharp as swords.
Let kindness guide, like a steady flame,
Not bitter blame or a hollow name."

"And so, my child, wherever you go,
My heart will follow, its light will show.
Through storm or calm, I’ll steady your way,
Cheering the paths you choose every day."

"It's fine to fear, but learn this at last:
Monsters will fade, their shadows recast.
Keep faith alive, a lantern to guide,
And love will stand as your truest tide."

As for me, I wander rough terrain,
Each step a balance of hope and pain.
But every scar holds a hidden glow,
And whispers paths where the soul can grow.

death is humble;
death does not discriminate;
death is everything,
but life.

i saw a half-dead man
at the butcher shop;
he ordered half a kilo chicken,
with half a voice;
his eyes, bloodshot,
sliced open like
the chicken’s clucking throat,  
and surveyed the butcher’s knife
for traces of humanity:
i don’t presume he found any.

the butcher verbalized an
unofficial bill of transaction:
the man paid with a 100,
and a 50 -
he was offered a 20 in return
by the butcher, who pressed
a ****** fingerprint on the note,
at the denomination.

the man reached for it…
but retracted halfway,
and said,
‘keep the change’.

you pay the levies
you grant the deceits

you fall behind
you fall from grace
you freefall

you get what you deserve
you deserve what you get

you take your time
you partake
you mistake
you get the point
you get by

you yearn
you learn
you lone
you moan
you atone

you know the stakes
you do what it takes
it’s all you

there’s enough anger in one man
to put even the Gods to shame;
it speaks to him in
mournful moments, when -
the shadow of doubt clouds  
his acumen, and his candour
reigns far too long.

he sleeps with it;
dreams of it;
and once it has
invaded his subconscious,
he revels in it --
it makes him feel powerful,
and hungry for a scam
that disguises itself as a reward.

belittled by his own words,
he seeks refuge in others
who share his wrath -
for they are everywhere:
they help him carve his words
into a dagger of insecurity,
with which he stabs those
who tried to offer him
an antonym for violence;

the blood he draws shall
dye his conscience -
evil red.

the phone - it calls:
my impulse crawls
back to the moment ‘twas
mighty, and strong;

the tv on the drywall -
knows how to stall -
my mind from its prime;
my body from a shawl --

i feel my palms
so cold - and remote:  
the channel shows
a woman in a fur coat;
she looks so sad -
with all she has;
she quits on love,
doesn’t leave a note.

i turn to music;
tune to the rhymes -
my sorrows of the day;
i buy some time:
debt looms over -
menacing, by the day;
volume seeks heed -
i cannot pay.

done for the day,
i put the phone down;  
the screens go dark -
make me look like a clown.
i cannot keep tabs on
on all my regrets, so -
i force the ******* laptop
to shut down.

shall i scream,
or sing a low hum?
read Poe -
or write a poem?  
the clock ticks away -
my fingers go numb;
my eyes wide open;
my voice -

so dumb.

i snort the pillow;
lick shampoo off her hair strands;
she’s on to witchcraft.