My shattered utopia
Can only be restored with
My self as burnt offering
Category: Poetry
Ragged
You know not how to stitch a
Wound, to tend it so it heals.
You can only twist the knife.
Citizen
The nation I belong to
Has no passports or borders
Just people dancing, loving
Center
Everything changes
Except me. I sit,
And watch, am unmoved
Substitute
May the pain and shame
Rain down on me so
You might be spared
Pondering
Are others’ minds like mine? Do
They whir with fantasy, then
Screech in harsh accusation?
Succubi
The love of your kin spreads its
Virulent tendrils into
My spine, draining my spirit
My Weakness
If there is a beautiful
Woman to watch me, I am
Unbeatable. But what can
I do in the dark, alone?
Fractional Existence
I wander this world in
Search of who I was, who I
Could have been, my missing piece.
Herman’s Hermitage 