Bravery a flight
above battle
ending often
with wounded hearts.
Sand the latter vessel
for blood and flesh
former pumps and pipes.
Bones once clad black
decay not with similar femurs
because they were not thought
rich enough.
List Of Eyes
I thought it was the rain
running down my cheek
I thought it was the flood
wetting my socks
I thought it was the ashes
of burnt promises
pressed upon my head
I thought my breath
would last until
I reached the surface
I cried until the roses bloomed
I held a hand too long
I have a list of eyes
I have looked into
none of them the orb
I thought you would be.
In a world full of
Fried Chicken & Philosophy 