A thing that must be done 

to take things from better to worse

who can say where it will end

till something breaks

and someone ends up 

dead or in prison

the hurt spreads

but I will not be devastated

I will not be judged by the guilty

nothing shall be redeemed till justice be done

bullets, car crashes, liquor and pills, 

All end you, fast or slow. 

Soft Close

We don’t talk anymore; I

Pretend it’s mutual but

It was you who decided.

Perhaps I wasn’t good for

You, though I always tried to

Be good to you. For the best,

I tell myself, while the you

Shaped hole in me aches, empty