key #poetry

every weekend someone new

never letting anyone new get through

my guarded gates

under lock without the key

the possessor of my freedom

has not given it back to me




Love was never him

it was always you, beautiful girl

he told you sweet lies


that you held true

you took them to your mouth

and ate them bite after addictive bite

fruit will rot,

plants will wilt,

if not properly cared for

water yourself

grow your fruit

you are the sweet flesh of your labors

stop nourishing this rotting wilting love

he was never a gardner anyway



I hold my knees to my chest crying.

Returning to infancy to cope with the pain.

I am being reborn.

Being born is scary work.

That is why you cry when the harsh air of the world first touches you.

I am naked and trembling in this new world.

The new world without you in it.

I am alone again just as when I was born.

I will  grow stronger.

Our bodies are self cleaning.

I to will purge this sadness and adjust.