Poems by A.J. Huffman

To the Enemies of My Soul
 
I am not the victim type.
I am too defined for that.
All my issues
have blades.
They break
string and bone alike.
Anything that comes too near.
So fire that smile
as often as you dare.
Just be sure you do it
from over there.
You see,
you will lose more
than the game.
If your teeth
trip.
Over my air.

 
 

The Blue Pastures of Dusk
 
I close my eyes instead.
Wanting the pain to stop.
Wanting to be asleep.
I need that oblivion.
That dark forgiving nothing.
Of thoughtless release.
No dreams.
No light.
No life.
Only the slow whisper of breath.
Almost death.
Praying for silence
to escape.
And take its place.
Over lips
that want nothing more
than to forget.
How to move.

 
 

Vague in Spattered Glass
 
Your boredom
is the only stain.
In this cell.
In this hell.
I call it home.
And smear it
across the floor.
Contamination complete.
I can sleep now.
Your scent
will burn
my dreams.
For a week.

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