poem – Page 13 – Thistle Thoughts

Valued: A Poem

in their eyes we are worth
what we can do for them

the tide that took
you away had a
street name

A cherita

catch a
processing breath

I had to let go
of a life I planned for me

my mind
is a record
on repeat

our voices lost in this void,
like phantoms, we avoid
all real feeling…

prices paid,
empty pockets
& callused hands

my wrath
drains crimson
down the bath

Flashes of lightning
illuminate you,
and I turn away
lest I cry.