Somebody Got Shot

in

I told them to go: Daddy,Take her to her favorite place The library. Pick up the Thai food And come home, be safe.

They come home and I kiss them We eat together, then we watch Fantasia while I stretch and Daddy works. A normal evening.

Except for the police racing about Daddy wondered why, I said: Guns The last time I saw them speeding Without sirens, somebody got shot.

The neighborhood blog flashed a notice: A shooting at the corner, near the library At 6:45. My reasons for living crossed paths With a gunman, and I sent them.

I get on my knees, blessing my Angels, my worst fears curling and Charred, touched by the fires of hell While I pray for their mothers.

One Kiss

in

One kiss.Give it away never take it back One kiss can change a life Suck you up like a tornado A force spiraling out of control Spit you out with desiccated lips Lick you up with soft wet tongue Turn you into putty, into something To be molded and mended and Broken. We exist for kisses We cry for them We kill for them. Seeking foreign mouths Though we can kiss Ourselves, hands toes arms legs Every part but the most important. Not everything comes from the inside Not everyone comes from the outside Why don't we write love letters To our own hearts? Kiss our own wounds Lap up our own blood? We would be safer No longer risking our flimsy lips To the abyss of another's.

blind chance

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Written for Trifecta. She scratches her cheek, wondering if this is a psychological or a physiological response. She's no longer sure of what's real and what's imagined, or if the line even exists. Something real can be imagined and something imagined can be real.

Does she hear spirits because she doesn't want to be alone, or because they're there? Whispering in her ear, tickling her face, playing with her hair.

Is she sick because she wants to be? Are the ghosts here to lead her to the other side? Or is she dead already?

All she knows is that she knows nothing. Which is why she makes no decisions for herself.

She learned during her life as a foster child that the only way to live is by blind chance. She would do whatever they told her to do. If she disobeyed, they would hate her. Since she had no love, she was petrified of hate.

When her foster mother told her to finish her dinner, she did. When her foster brother told her to take off her clothes, she did. When the social worker told her to keep her mouth shut, she did. When they told her to leave, she moved out. When a rich man offered to take her off of the park bench and into his bed, she followed him. When she got sick, she told no one because there was no one to tell..

She is ready to die.

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