Self inflicted

We sometimes want what will not help…

We seek the lights that will melt our hands

Fingers stretching to touch the gold;

Grasping flames not meant to hold…

We sometimes trust what is always wrong…

Freeing floods deeper than our souls,

Lamenting as we cannot float

Cries for mercy cut off by mill-stones

We trap ourselves then weep for home.

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He

There has been no thing lost

That He can not restore.

There will never be so high a cost

That He would not pay for.

You are covered and renewed

There is only freedom now for you.

And you.

And me.

Slain

I still think about you, wonder if my veins will ever forget

The way your hand felt pressed against my chest

how soft your skin was, how unreal the red seemed

Painted on his gloves, it weaves through my dreams

I have not tasted sleep since the night you came my way

I have not faced a dreamless land since the horror of that day

Every sundown, nightmares come to wriggle in my mind

I do not rest, I only wait

In agony for sunrise.

Vanessa

Every time I close my eyes

I see her body at my feet

Lying crooked in the street

Gurgling breath, begging me

The other prevailing thought…

“Her old hands were so soft.”

I hope you are okay. I grieve for what

Happened that day.

Keep

The daylight is here and my fear

Should be gone

The darkness, like mist

Evaporates from the lawn

My star-gazing, sugar-cubes

Flung in the sky

The current of pain where the Milky Way lies

I should be whole and peaceful and still

Instead I choose tumult

and mudslicks, and the pills I abhor;

My hands gleefully wretched with dark oil-spills.

Let my heart still and stir the river no more.