Posted in Poetry

Abandoned Voices


Friend,

Everything around us
looks different in your brush strokes
wide swaths of funny

high-rises among rubble
the unspoken razor-sharp bleeds
internal combustion

my dirtied gauze
stops nothing from seeping
puss and white cells and bacteria

festered wounds i picked
until you filled with booze
tempered fury spilt over

until the silent spring
dead upon arrival
we finally met eye-to-eye

voiceless in song
two toddlers in tantrum
with war wounds gone

was anything as necessary
after years of turmoil brewed
than to stand and be alone

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