Dividend.

Here’s a thought from me to you,

nothing equally divides by two,

the perception of equality,

gets crossed up with duplicity,

dishonesty, epiphanies,

the tattered wings of chivalry,

a vicious cycle gets pursued,

and chased down like a dog in heat;

Once again I’m on the move,

the disappointment is nothing new,

please don’t take it personally,

it’s not like you meant much to me,

complacency, mentalities,

the monarch of totality,

without a thing to prove,

the crumbled teeth of dishonesty.

 

 

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Let Go.

Mocking Bird Down

Bloody_Face_of_Bagul
Remembering you, is like placing my lips
on a heavy bottomed whiskey glass, filled
with tiny sharp shards of a broken mirror
and tilting it into my mouth. Slicing my tongue,
the same tongue that licked the blood from your lips
when you fell into my glass desk.
Tearing at my throat, with a familiar burn,
that comes only from crying so hard that the
salted grief becomes more acidic with
each clear recollection of
just how
fucked up
you
are.
The mirror catches the light, like you did,
but it makes me keel over; internal bleeding
and a searing pain, also familiar. Your calling card.
You found me when I was just a young girl,
and you added an unforgettable misery
to my world.
Your creation was my slow deterioration.
Your masterpiece was the physical
damage that would grab at me with it’s clammy hands
still, fifteen years later.

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Sledgehammered.

Like a bus

that couldn’t stop,

its driver, legs locked-

straight, baring down-

all the weight,

the failing of brakes;

beneath his feet,

where the tires

touch street

screeching, scraping

metal shavings

but can’t quite stop

in time not to

run right over me.

The Sledgehammer swings,

it’s wielder, well-meaning-

momentous force-

impact to the chest

sets into course,

broken by the best

of darkness creeping

in through

my own big mouth.