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
Tag: poetry slam
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.
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wasted
the pile of faded out 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.
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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.
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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.
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weaving
sitting in his chair of discouragement
weaving individual threads of pain,
he created a blanket of
sadness scrawling across the floor.
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unnoticed
feeling unnoticed,
he continued to put himself in the
way of his own beauty.
avp
Unfinished Souls 