Chameleon

tucked away in the smallest of closets
the child in her bellowed; holding fast to the promise of
an aging hyena’s sly smile, fully prepared
to deny those few strands of self
still clinging to pumping calves
on her steady decline

she left her name at the doorstep
along with her unbound fate, dropped
what little truth she had
into the blossoming weave of her mesmerizing colors
& displayed her heart for rent.

– The Sunday Whirl –

Advertisements

Sepia

night falls, thickly
with a taste of tangy orange
that masks the lump in my throat
while I think about
saying goodbye to you, predestined,
in the early hours of morning

discomfort slouches at the back of my neck
& I tap my nails on those angular customs
as I see myself squirm in this crammed space —
You and Me were all sepia smiles &
so much more than worn wooden benches

I will keep our moments
in a pudding cup,
squeeze them joyfully
a little too hard
& still raise your voice
long after the silence.

Patchy Heart

would you rather
have a heart
unmarred,
unbroken,
untouched

or a heart
frayed at the edges
patched and stitched,
parts missing –
where you gave
pieces of it away…

showing character –
a heart
that has known
true love

from
the greatest pain
comes
experience
and wisdom.
no matter
how painful,
you will be rich.