Where
have you found me; broken, split in halves, eyes
hiding
a brain of tears. Something has shattered free,
where
particles
flip and flop upon concrete, melting into sunrays.
I’m
a desert afar, marrying sorrow; and I feel her
screaming:
“Let
it go.” We died in our youth, fully frenzied, to live
as
adults, filled with fragments. Something is challenged,
a
sense of self, founded in harshness. She lived in a
moment,
breathing
life, abused by society. How would she find
herself,
melting baking soda, and breastfeeding? I fault
her,
and
I fault her not. But who would feel her, bundled in
pain,
a
quilt of sorrow? I pace a faceless city, peering into a
faceless
self,
praying to a faceless Heart; and somewhere, deep a
conscious,
a son is groaning, grappling confusion. I need
more
of myself, remembering my likeness, conversing
with
mirrors.
How
was it us? I’m lost for reason, wounded in soul, and
deeply
apologetic.
I saw her, and knew her, a reflection of a
future.
Every
corner,
fraught with fever, to pass out on hard liquor; and
how
to
turn right, where left was given? I ask, felt and clueless,
striving
to
escape. What was it; a tub of grief, an ounce of illusion,
a
need to
forget
something living? It was us, crying and laughing,
dearly
destroyed,
where another line would rupture.
