Poem: Powder Keg

Momma and daddy were gasoline and gunpowder
Playing at least once a week with matches
Until someone exploded into a raging inferno
Large enough that we feared it would consume us
No one ever died but we all had scars from the burns
That never quite healed despite the passing of years

Poem: Domesticated Lyric

Watching the clock
As it marches on
Lying awake she wonders
To herself about motivations
For still being here

Does it make her happy
When it doesn’t bring her pain
Does it keep her from crying
When it doesn’t make her insane

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