Graveyards and Forests ~this week’s poems~


my graveyard is painted

in shades of irony

and its stone teeth

ensure there is no escape


sunlight rattles between 

my bones like an inmate

that loves the bars 

like it could 

never love

its home


One tree 

drinks with the sun 

and so finds itself 

some sky. The other 

tree cowers, sinking 

from the light. 

The first raises its head 

above the rest and sees 

nowhere left to go. 

The other tree sleeps 

and dreams far above

their collective peaks.


the veil of autumn

lies heavy upon 

the body of summer

until winter seals its tomb

so too do regrets drown 

the mind until death 

sees both through 


drag me up the steps

with your broken arms

and let the hangman ramble on

then dig me twice as deep

but leave a stone

on my head for the mourners

to spit upon because only time

will lay upon it and weep

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