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.
avp
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.
avp
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
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
sitting in his chair of discouragement
weaving individual threads of pain,
he created a blanket of
sadness scrawling across the floor.
avp
feeling unnoticed,
he continued to put himself in the
way of his own beauty.
avp