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The Immortal’s Lamentation
when the human race
is merely bone fragments
poking up from dirt
begging to be put
back together
like a puzzle
shoved into the back of a
child’s closet
never to be bothered
with again
I will be left standing
but not you
I will be forced to observe
as this universe’s most prized creation
desperately calls out to
whoever may listen
begging to be saved from itself
you will be abandoned among the
discarded remains of your brethren
and I will ignore your
cries and go somewhere
where they can’t be
heard
where I can’t be
heard
as I mourn
what once was and
what could’ve been
when the human race
is merely bone fragments
poking up from dirt
begging to be put
back together
like a puzzle
shoved into the back of a
child’s closet
never to be bothered
with again
I will be left standing
but not you
I will be forced to observe
as this universe’s most prized creation
desperately calls out to
whoever may listen
begging to be saved from itself
you will be abandoned among the
discarded remains of your brethren
and I will ignore your
cries and go somewhere
where they can’t be
heard
where I can’t be
heard
as I mourn
what once was and
what could’ve been
a room with no flaws
a room with no flaws
begs to be scrutinized
it sits symmetrically
with its eye-pleasing color scheme
and wonders why humanity
must project their fear
of judgement
onto an innocent space
the fireplace deserves ashes
the floor would look better with
at least one scratch
the chandelier would be happier
with a flickering lightbulb
this room cries out
pleading with its designer
to allow just one sign of life
to give it the beautifully human gift
of imperfection
a room with no flaws
begs to be scrutinized
it sits symmetrically
with its eye-pleasing color scheme
and wonders why humanity
must project their fear
of judgement
onto an innocent space
the fireplace deserves ashes
the floor would look better with
at least one scratch
the chandelier would be happier
with a flickering lightbulb
this room cries out
pleading with its designer
to allow just one sign of life
to give it the beautifully human gift
of imperfection
a room with no flaws
a room with no flaws
begs to be scrutinized
it sits symmetrically
with its eye-pleasing color scheme
and wonders why humanity
must project their fear
of judgement
onto an innocent space
the fireplace deserves ashes
the floor would look better with
at least one scratch
the chandelier would be happier
with a flickering lightbulb
this room cries out
pleading with its designer
to allow just one sign of life
to give it the beautifully human gift
of imperfection
a room with no flaws
begs to be scrutinized
it sits symmetrically
with its eye-pleasing color scheme
and wonders why humanity
must project their fear
of judgement
onto an innocent space
the fireplace deserves ashes
the floor would look better with
at least one scratch
the chandelier would be happier
with a flickering lightbulb
this room cries out
pleading with its designer
to allow just one sign of life
to give it the beautifully human gift
of imperfection
There’s a Fine Line Between Defending and Destroying
Inspired by Loneliness by Lawrence Simonoff
somewhere an oak tree
holds onto her last leaf
wrapping gentle fingers around it
so the cold air can’t reach it
she’s known these winds for centuries
she knows how much they give
and how much more they take away
gazing at her once full branches
now bare and brittle
she sighs
wishing
she’d held the rest of her leaves
protected them
if only she’d known there would soon be one left
as a gust approaches
she tightens her grip
anticipating it’s too-familiar talons
that had snatched almost every part of her
and torn it to shreds
with all the strength that remains in her bones
she clutches the little brown leaf
knuckles flashing white
eyes firmly shutting
as the wind flies through her
and though it felt like hours
it was only a few seconds
slowly opening her eyes
and standing up straight
she exhales
and gently releases the leaf from her grasp
crushed into unrecognizable shards
it looks up at her one last time
and falls lightly to the ground
Inspired by Loneliness by Lawrence Simonoff
somewhere an oak tree
holds onto her last leaf
wrapping gentle fingers around it
so the cold air can’t reach it
she’s known these winds for centuries
she knows how much they give
and how much more they take away
gazing at her once full branches
now bare and brittle
she sighs
wishing
she’d held the rest of her leaves
protected them
if only she’d known there would soon be one left
as a gust approaches
she tightens her grip
anticipating it’s too-familiar talons
that had snatched almost every part of her
and torn it to shreds
with all the strength that remains in her bones
she clutches the little brown leaf
knuckles flashing white
eyes firmly shutting
as the wind flies through her
and though it felt like hours
it was only a few seconds
slowly opening her eyes
and standing up straight
she exhales
and gently releases the leaf from her grasp
crushed into unrecognizable shards
it looks up at her one last time
and falls lightly to the ground
inside, looking out
light a match
toss it in
and I’ll serve my purpose
I was built to keep you warm
and that I will do
until the end of time
it seems
oh, how I wish you would
appreciate winter’s sharp bite
and the silent blanket of comfort
it brings
I quietly question how you find the artificial
warmth you take from
me
more desirable than the beautifully frozen state
of your world
a gift undeservingly bestowed upon you
and left unappreciated
you are able to go outside
and let it engulf you
winter leaves its arms wide open
waiting
yet here you sit
in front of me
staring
wishing it would go away
light a match
toss it in
and I’ll serve my purpose
I was built to keep you warm
and that I will do
until the end of time
it seems
oh, how I wish you would
appreciate winter’s sharp bite
and the silent blanket of comfort
it brings
I quietly question how you find the artificial
warmth you take from
me
more desirable than the beautifully frozen state
of your world
a gift undeservingly bestowed upon you
and left unappreciated
you are able to go outside
and let it engulf you
winter leaves its arms wide open
waiting
yet here you sit
in front of me
staring
wishing it would go away
inside, looking out
light a match
toss it in
and I’ll serve my purpose
I was built to keep you warm
and that I will do
until the end of time
it seems
oh, how I wish you would
appreciate winter’s sharp bite
and the silent blanket of comfort
it brings
I quietly question how you find the artificial
warmth you take from
me
more desirable than the beautifully frozen state
of your world
a gift undeservingly bestowed upon you
and left unappreciated
you are able to go outside
and let it engulf you
winter leaves its arms wide open
waiting
yet here you sit
in front of me
staring
wishing it would go away
light a match
toss it in
and I’ll serve my purpose
I was built to keep you warm
and that I will do
until the end of time
it seems
oh, how I wish you would
appreciate winter’s sharp bite
and the silent blanket of comfort
it brings
I quietly question how you find the artificial
warmth you take from
me
more desirable than the beautifully frozen state
of your world
a gift undeservingly bestowed upon you
and left unappreciated
you are able to go outside
and let it engulf you
winter leaves its arms wide open
waiting
yet here you sit
in front of me
staring
wishing it would go away
Yellow Tulips
yellow tulips unfurl
the sound of their unanimous bloom deafening
they reach out to the rejected
they reach out to the discouraged
they reach out to the hopeful
and the hopeless
so when your heart decides
it has fought its final battle
and no red roses or lilacs can fill in the open wounds
lay it to rest in a bed of yellow tulips
and they will gladly accept your offering
turning orange as they drink in the sweet nectar
of failure and despair that tastes so
deliciously human
as they close
absorbing the last of your heart’s rotting flesh
they wait optimistically for next spring
because as blossoms burst
then shrivel
with the seasons
humanity remains unchanging
and in time
the rejected
the discouraged
and the hopeless
will return
broken beyond repair
to surrender what they used to cherish
yellow tulips unfurl
the sound of their unanimous bloom deafening
they reach out to the rejected
they reach out to the discouraged
they reach out to the hopeful
and the hopeless
so when your heart decides
it has fought its final battle
and no red roses or lilacs can fill in the open wounds
lay it to rest in a bed of yellow tulips
and they will gladly accept your offering
turning orange as they drink in the sweet nectar
of failure and despair that tastes so
deliciously human
as they close
absorbing the last of your heart’s rotting flesh
they wait optimistically for next spring
because as blossoms burst
then shrivel
with the seasons
humanity remains unchanging
and in time
the rejected
the discouraged
and the hopeless
will return
broken beyond repair
to surrender what they used to cherish
Narcissist’s Apology
pour the core of your being
each broken piece
out into my hands
and I will carry them in my pocket
so you’re always with me
I’ll put you in a vase on the mantle
to live with picture frames and knickknacks
that accept you as one of their own
and gaze at you with a twinge of human understanding
because they have been where you are
one day
these fragments will have to be returned to you
I suppose
but first they will be held and cherished and guarded
tangled and toyed with and tossed
because I know no other way to love you
than to tear you away
and mold you like a starved sculptor
into who I cannot be
pour the core of your being
each broken piece
out into my hands
and I will carry them in my pocket
so you’re always with me
I’ll put you in a vase on the mantle
to live with picture frames and knickknacks
that accept you as one of their own
and gaze at you with a twinge of human understanding
because they have been where you are
one day
these fragments will have to be returned to you
I suppose
but first they will be held and cherished and guarded
tangled and toyed with and tossed
because I know no other way to love you
than to tear you away
and mold you like a starved sculptor
into who I cannot be