The Angel / Crow / Emergence

It’s not that I expected more
Than what I could give in return.

It’s not that the gravitational pull of the moon
refuses him any less than I can maneuver.

It’s that I mapped out my own pain
As a way to prepare myself for the fall.

It was the appearance of a bittersweet laugh;

A false smile that I adopted

Then desperately attempted to escape;

An intellectual manslaughter;

The fear of God hidden politely in a diseased embrace;

You do this




Fool’s gold and denial notices;

Shelter in place of home;


Crawl space;

Absence of light;

Avoidance of opportunity.

He takes a photograph

In the fog of a morning sunrise

And tries to imagine a parallel universe

where this dark boy

didn’t only exist within strings of binary.

Please find me.

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