These hands
that build tomorrows bridge
from clutter and chaos,
is a dangerous brokeness to cross.
AVP
These hands
that build tomorrows bridge
from clutter and chaos,
is a dangerous brokeness to cross.
AVP
He held his art to feel less alone,
yet his tears still tasted the same.
AVP
When courage wasn’t home.
he walked back down to the crooked tree
where light bows down to the night
AVP
Tripping over broken halos
he realized he was not alone
AVP
Time in yesterday’s space
reopens the healing heart today.
An empty heart
leaves room to fill.
AVP
It took another beautifully broken soul
to understand him.
avp
with a carnival balloon in hand
and paper banjos playing softly beside the river
he walked home,
pausing only for a moment
to released the fictional helium hope
of ever finding his own huckleberry …
avp
with the flowers quickly fading
and his parents passed,
he listened for their whisper through the rain
just to have some small hope
he wasn’t alone.
avp
wearing his favorite t-shirt
and a coquettish grin,
he played board games
with dice and peoples hearts
losing his turn at love…
on his final spin.
avp