A Kindness Of Stars
A yawning, blinking sky
and me looking up
tracing bleary shapes
a crown, a bear, a shield
A hunter felled in his confidence
a folly stitched into space
by a loop of a belt
smell of grass sticking to skin
eyes flickering across a
massive stretch of dark
what will my stars spell out?
a hazy cut out of a sleepless boy
the stars begin to blur, taking shape
as familiar faces with consoling smiles
you are kind
said with a laugh
as if it just slipped your mind
meet it with a stretched smile
a fissure forming between the eyes
like the cracks i chiseled in my skin
gripping a rusty tool with fingers
that reek of vomit
a whisper
a sickening prayer
i am trying to save you
i am swelling up
my horns to large
my teeth too sharp
i am much too big
hazy dim stars spell out in kind
what a monster
with those night sky knuckles
how do you slay a monster with
your face, your eyes
your heart pounding in
your own chest?
I am peering at my reflection
over a red tinged sink
matching bite marks in
both our necks
poison dripping on tile
from my bottom lip
my stomach lurches
how do you make yourself not bad?
the world turns over and over
A yawning, blinking sky
and me looking up
night after, night, after night
it is a gentle sort of violence.
Wilbur Alden has been writing poetry since he was young. It's how he expresses himself. He never knows how he truly feels until he writes a poem. His hope is that he can share his poetry so that others like him don't feel so alone.
