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my warm bills sweatshirt and
“you always wear those” black jeans
i’ve strewn across
the ice-laced bathroom tile

the Serenity Chamber is
ready to receive me
but first i must extract
and place next to my
scattered clothes
my heart
(is this going to work?)
heavy, punctured, hollow

the prep has past
i collapse within
fluffed white
thick bubbles, they
surround me

in this peaceful
(faucet thrumming in front of me)
mustn’t i find
“balance, within your life
you must learn to love yourself
you must learn to accept yourself
you must learn to understand yourself
you must learn to express yourself”
what they speak of
the crucial riches
in this world?

but what this (escape) trip
to a drive-by motel
cannot fix
what this porcelainsteel sanctuary
cannot forgive
is the silent whimpering

that one word i can’t seem to muster
when “how are yous” come around
and they’re smiling, smiles abound

that word
if only i could
trust these tiles
with it as well




is an Environmental Design student with hopes of one day becoming an architect. In his spare time, he likes to read Stephen King novels and write short stories and poetry.

For Papa

as the pages turn
they whisper

Our Oak-cherished
today, it must slumber

yet this pen
rewinds clocks
to behold the shaded sapling
calling beyond the horizon
“a tree, let us create together”

till She awoke, glowing
and embark they did
to hollers ‘n’ howls
their skin withstood

now, branches extended
multiplied, three then ten
look upon it
Our Garden-rebuilt
it shall bring you peace

so as the wind wails
this eternal summer morning
the pages do indeed turn
but fictional are their tales

for the roar stirred by
each rising sun
radiates through my roots

it beats in me
as it beat from you


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