#1 Dream

I dreamt I was five years old,
my father discovers I will grow up
to be a shambles of a man
he murders me
quickly, viciously, silently, softly
and I never grow up to make my mother cry.
I respect him
for sparing her this

Drunk ships

Drunk ships sail west
on lonely blue waves
their jagged tips sharp
like mothers migraine,
I caught sight of my reflection
in the moody flow
and it occured to me
that all of my beautiful nights
were stolen from me
and because of this
I don't really know myself.

Light Tricks

Sometimes the light creates lines
that look like steps
leading down
to nowhere in particular
I try to walk down them,
feel the crush of cruel illusion,
spent, on summer days
and cold winter nights
that last too long
yet end too soon
and always feel so removed.