You have never told anyone about the 5
Hiding under your bed.
Catching dust with their fingers
Exhaling smoke through their lips
Moving sideways in the breath of silence.
You are the Samaritan woman at the well.
History shall not absolve you.
Is cheaper than the rest
Your mouth smells of cheap brandy.
You are a dangerous boy
Slaughtering tender hearts
To build your home in someone
Who will not question
The blood on your hands.
You have made a habit
Of targeting people
Who get lost with
Maps in their hands
You do not tell them
That you do not wish to stay.
There is nothing to say about people
That escape from prison through the window.
They fall and bleed on the inside.
Suicide notes are more valuable ways of
Paying your vows.
Many revolutions have fallen
Out of the spaces
In between your teeth.
So much goes unsaid in the silent hum
This is a eulogy for all the things you have lost.
It is an epitaph encrypted before your origin.
It is the last sentence of a blank obituary, that is
no more wordless than it is nameless.
It remembers no more than it forgets.
Such has been my life: A succession of things