Here are two poems I wrote recently.

She’s not quite sure where to go anymore;
What to make of anything.
Asylum is not a gift from God. Asylum is a privilege.
You think she would’ve known by now.

There’s no more Nietzscheism to fall back on.
Words sent out on backstroke breezes find her where
She uttered them; the prettiness of her mouth forming the words
Broken like a mirror - pieces are hidden

“it’s sort of like when someone dies;” inside her junk-brain
Where the worst is yet to come
(and will ravage her if the good times haven’t died yet)
“and that light goes out, and you’re left knowing-”

As the last flames whisper out and render the candelabrum
Pretty bones that tinkle in the dark,
There wasn’t ever a queen to begin with, just
A little girl with a broken crown

Asylum is not a gift from God. Asylum is a privilege.
Yet for all her pomp and circumstance,
Now that she cracks open for the whole weyed world to see;
It’s clear she hasn’t earned it yet.

+

Home is so very far away from Here;
(But this is how the spell works - watch careful, boys & girls)
He has made a vow, and sealed it with blood
That isn’t his; because he wants to no magic.

He smiles in the heat waved night.
Moon bounces off the teeth, like tricks of light
Showing on a knife.
These are old games; they exist in veins and ligaments

A brood is betrayed here, in the middle of nowhere,
The smell of broken covenant in the long center of the earth.
“it’s not because he doesn’t want to open his eyes,
it’s because he doesn’t no how.”

There will always be one eye; and he knows it.
One eternal pulsing retina, breathing with the knowledge of
Bloodied seething sacrilege, that, for both eyes,
Will finally switch “no” with know.

comment if you like or if you'd like to critique.

I most post more poems I've wrote later.