wasted

the pile of faded blue t-shirts

that sit silent in the corner of an empty room

still have the scented memories 

of his wasted kisses, lost loves,

and the absent knowing

of how to feel something for someone.

                                                                         

                                                                             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

rhythmic

the duel between his heart and mind

became a dance in rhythmic measure

of opening and closing, 

each inflicting strict penalties on him

of reward and punishment

as conditions for love. 

                                                                     

                                                                             avp