Brown Eyes
JCD Kerwin
With three heartbeats
I can do more damage
than with one.
It’s more fun
to break these parts
over again
and rid them of pain,
of loss,
desolation
and regret three times
more than
before.
Three heartbeats
could be amazing but
for me
they only reflect
three times the pain
of living three times as long
as maybe I should have.
June 2015
Under the Armour
JCD Kerwin
It’s funny that
to forge ahead
you must discard
the bloodied, broken armour
you’ve been wearing ‘round for years.
(Some sanguine stains are yours;
some family’s;
and some pure stranger’s.)
In the end,
you walk alone
with brittle bones
and scars upon your feet.
But you know,
the briar patch
you crawled through
all your life
is miles behind.
Nothing but grassy knolls
for your wounded toes
ahead.
And it echoes in your head:
“With every step and
every breath: hold on.”
Hold on, hold on, hold on.
With every drip
of sweat and tear;
blood that poured from all those years:
hold on,
walk on,
through valleys beyond
the Dark cast out
from your shattered, burned insides.
(May 2015)
It came to me in a rush.
It’s probably not even good.
[Untitled]
JCD Kerwin
I’ll stab this pen
a thousand times,
to make my stories
run red with blood.
My heart will look
like a tattered valentine,
but the moon will shine
through its holes
like a billion stars,
ready to dance,
in time,
with your heartbeats.
March, 2015
Er, it was a dark day. O_O…
Also, ten billion points to whoever can guess where I got the title of the poem from! I’ll give you a hint, my favorite band is U2. :O
B-Side the Fire
J.C.D. Kerwin
I set the same song on reply.
I glue the button down
with blood and spit and tears
to make the track rerun because
right now (since how long, I can’t recall)
it’s been the only thing keeping me from
falling into vomit I am puking from my heart.
There are no words, just
the same acoustic refrain
as if it sends me far away
from whatever this
is supposed to be.
(“Reality,” they tell me.)
At least in my head,
I can’t get hurt and
I don’t wear a frown
quite as hard
as the PF Flyers
I’ve worn holes in.
I keep running but
I don’t know which way
to chase a daydream.
It’s like trying to catch the moon
at dawn.
I’m told we’re all
a little crazy,
a little sad,
a little weird and a little mad
sometimes.
But all I really am is desperate.
I just want to crack
these goddamn headphones in half
and climb inside the music notes
to find the Neverland I dream about
every time I close my eyes;
to see the faces that aren’t real
to everyone else but me.
I’d like to suck a couple drops
of caffeine nicotine and see
if an imaginary friend will come
skipping out to talk with me.
Perhaps he’ll reflect computer screens
and we’ll recite binary while
people think I’m drunk, but won’t
it be fun when I’m finally gone and free?
Oh how I wish this cord
led to a 4-D world instead of a little red
music box player that made me wonder
of perfectly imperfect impossibilities.
(January 2015)
Sometimes I randomly think of things or moments from the past. Sometimes they’re too vivid.
The City: Laundromat by Lori Nix
Tumble Dry
JCD Kerwin
We met
in the back of a laundromat,
in plastic chairs
much too big for us.
You told me where your life was at,
and he was the one, in fact,
you gave it all away to.
I wasn’t mad,
and I wasn’t sad
(you thought I’d never
speak to you again),
but I will admit it hit
and made my heart
fall and clank
like quarters on the floor.
No more talks,
rainy walks,
or dreaming of
Neverland.
It’s okay; I’m glad
you fell in love and
went your own way.
I just wish we hadn’t left
all we had
in the back of a laundromat.
(Dec 2014)
J.C.D. KERWIN 