Falling Skies

I was born the day the sky fell apart;
it dropped down on us
in radiating rivulets

that very day
we were convicted to be A-OK
& sometimes I wonder
if that same sky was fated to be
the origin of indifference.

The Gift of Mor(t)ality

for the longest time I rode
side by side with mor(t)ality
on washed-out, winding roads, searching
for that one shred of humility
that led me back to mySelf

he was a hero of sorts —
with his relaxed posture &
those pearly-white teeth, easily slicing
through even the harshest bits of reality
as if they were nothing

& with just his lopsided smile
he always reminded me what it should feel like
to be human in an inhumane world.


it did not end
in the beginning
when all those little things
were still just little Things
& few noticed
their low-dosed beauty.

now that magnitude
outweighs the gravity of delusion
Little things
are all that matters
in the beginning
of the end
of the beginning.

Not A Christmas Poem

your smile stays hidden
behind a thousand snakes;
scales glistening in the spotlight
you force yourSelf to stand in —
so tall and manly (as you put it)

I still remember the color of your soul
& how warm it felt to the touch
when it was yet within my reach
not all that long ago

your eyes are filled with hope
when my fingers brush the last shred of dignity
off your starched collar 
& I realize
this is not a christmas poem.


blood fails, facing truth
after the downfall of a solid heart

we replace
living organs
clockwork toys and rubber tubes,
expecting to feel ~
pain, secured.

we wandered down the road
of riddled tomorrows ~
tales of caution
wasted on pubescent ears

we are thrown to the wolves
as our bodies dissolve;
rusty instincts
screaming bloody murder.