before

before words became bruises,

before your hand was a weapon, 

before my shirt lost its white,

and before tears were my food,

you were my father

and i was your son.

      avp

                      AVP

table

looking down through his glass 

he saw where the tears of wine

had left their stains of disappointment 

deep inside the splinters of a broken table.

                                                                                                                                   avp

                                                                           

                                              

plan b

old shadows 

that hover over the rocks and stones

in front of him

lead him with the wicked echos of regret

that his life had only become

his plan b.

                                                                             avp

window

the boy in the window

carving a broken heart in his breath,

realized the condensation dripping down

was like watching his tears…

die on his lips.

                                                                                           avp

van Gogh

he freed his fingers from my hand

to paint his own van Gogh

on the side of another square

he felt was a better fit.

                                                                          avp

jealous

 thickly layered and fragile

he sat in his safe space

framed by the things he’d become.

jealous for never taking chances

or challenging his truths

made of glue and antiseptic.

                                                                                   avp

passed

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

coquettish

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

without

within the broken heart

is a voice without a sound,

birds without a song,

stained glass without light,

stars without the night,

healing without mistakes

and a life without love.

                                          avp

hides

he hides himself away

in a corner where nobody can see

he never bleeds,

he never heals.

                            avp