The tree nods its head

Beckons birds to its arm boughs

Safe nested in womb.

i do not know which

tastes better: my mother's blood

or my father's tears

Our eternity 

Wilting like a fragile rose 

Forged in plastic thorns 

We slice with cruel words

then pretend our wounds don't bleed.

Blind pain denies stains.

The sun descended

upon his hasty demise

the day she turned mute

life starts to unfold

running free at five days old

stay free that's the goal

And the love she felt

Ran oh so far away. Not to

Come another day

Agony subsides

And death is not lenient

There is no return

On a Saturday

In a small town gas station

Walls were demolished.

He came late to work,

And bumbled up the project. 

He's glad it's Friday.