July 13, 2019. 

chalk dust on his palms

At last, my anger has been abandoned

My beating heart is badly breaking

Catch myself crying in uncentered mirrors

Daydreaming of a more delicate existence or a direction not taken from fear


I’m making snow angels on side walks

Searing skin in the summer’s sadness till my sins have been scorched.

I’m eroding, I’m screaming but out comes silence

I’m aching, my isolation makes me unable to tell if I’m still human.


Etching my outline onto pavement, watching my shadow be captured

Forgetting the frostbite on my fair skin from winter, he has me melting

Grieving the old me-- though I hate him

Healing has been damaging, he cloaks his intentions by pretending to help me


The sound of him drawing around my edges,

Chalk dust on his palms, they’re drier than my tongue

No shade, he is my own protection

Scolding in this jeering, July sun


He says he will decorate me with his destruction

If I let him crown me with his chaos

I will be his king if he will kiss me

Wear joker jewels firmly around my neck


Choking on words I should have said

Ignoring the red flags stained with his past lovers’ iron

Bleaching them, trying to purify his actions, but waving my white flag instead

What’s done has been done; I’m only a man


When he leaves me here defeated, in comes the rain

The crime scene he left me in, the outline around my sunburned form--

Lifts away from the pavement and drifts into exile

He mourned an early death and was frightened when August cradled me in it’s arms

Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 283 times
Written on 2019-07-13 at 06:52

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This is quite good. The abecedarian stanzas work especially well, but it is powerful throughout.