your eyes carry injured dreams.
a weep of dead waterfall unable to grow things you and your mother have hoped for.
her conversations with god about you dissolve in your eyes when she looks at you.
everything dies in your eyes.
your eyes are a well of poisoned dreams.
a coffin to hope and faith.
dust to dust of every word in your payers
setting. falling. unable to rise.
your eyes are worlds ending.
every blink is a countdown – an applause for defeat.
your mother blinks like tremor from colliding words of unanswered prayers.
every night patience escapes from her knees.
and your eyes reflect how she trembles in
her prayers when she spits your name lifeless.
you carry monuments of dead faith and the weight of disappointment in your eyes.
your eyes host an unveiling ceremony of things that once looked promising.
your mother gives silent speaches of broken light in your eyes every time she stares at you without opening her mouth.
your eyes carry injured dreams.
a poet that only knows only how to write sad poems.