Broken Verse I

Come sin with me, my Darling.
Subject yourself to reasoned lust.
Deliver me, bind me blindly,
in my Heroin salvation.

Haiku II

Sitting on the grass,
Watching it grow day by day.
Until I can see.

Play Dead- passage V

Another day of freedom. It was refreshing, much like the rare breezes of this stagnant, bloated summer. I thought that time of such suppressive desperation would never cease, never end, it would spiral on until that bastard pulled the trigger. Or I did.
Now I had a new life. My life. My own man to love, and his grace growing inside of me. I clutched my hands over the tiny bump and thought, of the only other time, I had been this content in life. Before he changed.
He used to be so amorous, so tender-hearted, so steadfast. He used to give a fucking care about me first and the rest of this damn life second. Then he joined the army, became a soldier, went to war. He said that he ''wanted to be something that his wife could be proud of'. To come home a hero and have stories for our children.'' We had no children.
The only story he gave was when he broke down, through drunken, unhinged sobs. About how his foot-patrol were ambushed in a land untouched by God. About how he watched his friends get blown from this life in a harrowing salvo of hellfire and shrapnel. In a crimson haze of gore and pleading screams. That was the day the light died his eyes. The day I no longer mattered.