The irony was lost to him, of complaining of polluted skies, when the remains of burning plant matter left his lungs. You are the victim and the perpetrator, to the crimes that you cry wolf to. You are the God of your own anguish, Mothered by pain, and your reluctance to change. Fathered by the passing of time, that makes you realize– your own mortality.
I know of a woman who lost her child; And with him, she lost her mind. Her speech is loud and unrefined, Her soul a space left undefined. Her hands draw patterns, up in the air, And trace along some unknown hair- Hair that once belonged to her child; He, to whom she cannot confide, Her fears of loss, and thoughts of grief. He who lived, but all too brief. He, who was her young […]
“Have you ever been hurt?” She asked me. “No, not in particular. Don’t you know; I have no heart.” …Silence. Frozen the air remained, till she began again… “You know that you don’t have to be so recluse and alone, the world is a comforting place. There’s a lot of joy and happiness in the little things.” I didn’t raise my head. Bent and broken I asked, “Really, Like what?” A smile crept upon her […]