Returning HomeReturning HomeI'm leaving again and my wife cries and clutches and begs me to stay. I think she must hate me for all I've done.I still walk out the door. The welcome mat feels foreboding. I wonder if I'll see it again.Through her tears, I tell her to wait for me. Selfish promises.One day I'll return home and maybe she'll come running into my arms, despite my blood-soaked hands. She'll grasp onto my shirt and never want to let me go. I don't think I'd be able to pull away.Nightmares come and go in the cold air when I'm all alone.Sometimes I dream of a warm fire and something more than what I've become.Atrocious things, horrific a
Growing Old Leaving this world earlyI have no place to go Will you accept me?Though I've yet to grow I'm still just a childI can't even count to three But I'm getting sickerAnd I want to be free The birds are already singingHospitals smell like soap Mommy is alrightI hope Because I haven't seen herIn the little room I must lay Every day I count sheepAnd tulips bloom in May Though I can't see themBecause there are no flowers todayNot by my bed, anywayThe heart monitor is beeping And I wish it would be quietBecause I'm sure that's what is making me sick The constant pop, popOf a machine that refuses to quit.