There is no light so bright to cleanse this shame Condemned to suffer by a plight of birth The cold and bleakest dark where burns no flame Abandoned, ignored your suffering claim Leftover human, savage of no worth There is no light so bright to cleanse this shame This shame is mine by many other … Continue reading Leftover People

Who is this child, unseen and broken, never clean, never heard or spoken of, consumed by terror, drowning in fear? Nothing breaks more than her heart. There is no one to save her, to help her through the horror. Her day bleeds, her night screams. She is the child of the people born from our … Continue reading We Are The Child

I am old, withered, shrunken; I mumble when I talk. You must lift me in and out of bed, dress me, feed me. I am like an infant; I even wear a diaper. I am so old that I am past humiliation. I have seen things and done things. Things that seem like they were … Continue reading The Last King

I walk in the black sand as the volcano sleeps. My passing is marked by footprints pressed into time. I am there and then the ocean washes me away. The world is my home, you are my child. Together we are made from the stuff of dreams. Born from spark, before the sun, before time. … Continue reading See Me Now

Imagine my rusty bones scattered in the dust, drying under the red fire of the sun, your eyes so pale they are almost white. You and me; life, dice loaded from the start; birth, scrounging for change, scraping, when it was then. I will love you until I die; you and me meandering through the … Continue reading Rusty Bones