Good Friday in Juvie


for Wyatt

The rocky ground bores holes in my tender feet as I march to the hill
my cell of concrete less forgiving than a bullet shooting through my chest
Jesus they mocked you too, and spat sharply on your beautiful face
smack the tears off of our stinging cheeks
I taste the metal blood dripping from the thorns of your crown
Our families turn the other way, denying our pleas our cries
my begging
we bleed hot despair
vinegar rips the flesh of our mouths
and our ears when they call us criminals
as if our mistakes imprison our ability to love, to regret
forgive them, but
that I tremble from the heartbreak of abandonment
the world long ago ceased to claim our toxic existence
but you, Lord,
You will rise from depths that pin me down
and suffocate my thirsty black lungs
the only hope
that I can grasp
through the cuffs that bind the bones of my wrists
that I can see
through the assertive silver bars separating me from my humanity
Save me
because no one else will
because I can’t drag my cross much further.

the pursuit of certainty

She prays
“Instill in me the reassurance
of a tomorrow
let me fly away in the wind of Your
sweet breath
delivering me from the worries of yesterday
and make possible the
of a happiness once promised

“Collide with me a love of this life
that I may hope for love at all
grant me please I beg you
the strength
to turn the pages”

Cerulean Beauty

water recedes like
my hairline
waves cover me and tuck me in, keeping me
through the night
my mother
used to pull the blankets up.
the marbled surface reflects my aged skin
the teary grey
my eyes
if only my day’s pages rolled across this frothy book
like the waves pass on
but alas I walk my last days on this sand
and I cry with the ashen birds that call in the sky

Tan cheeks match the safe shore
the sea foam
her hair
the flight of the gulls is her laughter
Soaring without
blue sea glass reflects
in her eyes
her soft hands are weathered by the wind
and I hold them like the
horizon holds my gaze
but alas the current will take her
even if her cerulean beauty is never forgotten


El árbol de oro

Más allá de la manera correcta y la única manera de vivir
Es un mundo de oportunidades
Y voy a vivir allí algún día
Cuando mi alma está cansado de este lugar

Vivo una vida buena
Sé que estoy fatalmente enfermo
¿Pero no es todo el mundo fatalmente enfermo
si no puede ver la belleza presente en este mundo,
A pesar de un cuerpo decrépito
O un corazón roto?

Para vivir bien es vivir auténticamente
Como si mañana no es más que un sueño
Y la actualidad se terminara en minutos
Porque siempre es así con la imprevisibilidad de esta vida

Todos los días subo la escalera espiral
asciendo hacia arriba a los cielos
Para una torre que guarda el secreto de una felicidad inimaginable
Mi secreto

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