I always write poetry on Mondays. Today I wrote two. This one is for Joe.
Day: February 1, 2016
Clarity. Misguided voices in your head. Speak of hatred, anger, death. Whisper signs. Corrupt your mind. Silently lie in wait, of your last breath. Don’t give in. The voice is pretend. Your wounds are real. They throb and bleed. No longer hidden where eyes can’t see.
