Sullen mornings;

I wake so frequently as of late with moon stained remembrance blistering the tip of my tongue;
grievances for a world unkept;
a society shook in to rubble, jilted & omitted;
a culture brought to boil in the streets; it’s children crying out against each other in terror-soaked hatred;
my own memories unearthing like dead fish.
floating to the surface.

Through the crest and swell of quarantined anamnesis; i recall after 21 years past; only now that my palate is refined enough to taste;
Despite our mistakes, I still feel love.

There is a man-child on my news feed; he fights another man for money & sport; then batters “his” women for self medication; a dose of ego to quell the dread.

“Keep her down keep her weak”

Glorified by fame or infamy; his *now* household name is spoken
More then Hers
Training is for dogs,
Humans need Teaching.
(bad boy, bad)

Does She even have a name to you anymore?
Would you venture to remember?
Despite this shattering; I still feel love.

I am waking up to the scars that have followed me for lifetimes. Wounds reopened. Or perhaps bones; broken to be reset
I would break my body to pieces; to reveal
only petals and thorns

These mornings I wake with heartache on my sleeve; for the love of a mother spat venomously back.
Nevertheless I can’t help but marvel at how together we have spent eons practising the perfect inhale;
breath out

All amidst a moon stained remembrance, I still feel love.


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