Three Sounds

steady stream against chimney and roof
drips tickling the windows
wind sweeping the damp air through the trees

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Past and Present

just because
I’m no longer mad —
well I can still trace
my fingers down the lava scars
inside my ribs
a cold glass wall
I frown through it
I can look and he cannot touch me

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my blood muscle
got pushed back
it’s suffocating
in the back wall
of my chest cavity
I think I’m breathing
not sure oxygen
is traveling
distress, distraught
what’s the difference
what does it matter