Funny how powerful is the highest compliment for a man,
and a liability for women.
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Category: Micro Poems
Pro-Life
I am more incinerator than incubator.
Emotional Hail Mary’s
All too often, I am the recipient of posthumous affection–
An affirmation arriving way too late.
They are not love letters but obituaries,
More eulogy than sonnet.
“I love you”s are ghost stories to my ears.
They don’t understand how their words don’t adorn me—
They collect dust in a moseleum.
I want a love with as much life as I have,
With a pulse
And sweat,
And better timing.
Prayer
I hollow my head of every cluttered though,
allow a higher power in.
“Soon,” I am assured, “Soon”.
With every repetition, the knot in my throat passes.
Loneliness
How lonely it feels to be surrounded by a gallery of glossed gazes,
searching for eyes that burn like mine.
Forgive
Forgiveness is a verb
done at a high resistance.
Why I can’t stop writing about the same things
My hurt just wants to be heard.
