Brown Eyes

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

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Under the Armour

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)

Meta-alert

[it’s a metaphor, metaletitpour]
JCD Kerwin

stab the stylus
into skin
[rip];
place the paper
‘gainst my heart:
pulp and fiber flitter
[drip].
sanguine rivers
slip
‘round my toes:
mix it with
ink to turn
my veins to black.
fill the room with
keats’s breathings from
my asphyxiating
lungs
while you
feast on dusty bones.
cover your painted eyes
with
masks to hide
death falling new
upon the floor.

(December, 2013)

There’s a Hurricane in my Coffee

Haircut
JCD Kerwin

I grab the scissors with both hands,
and hold the blade between my fingertips
to see if the blood will make
my hair a deeper shade of red.

I have styling gel in my eye
and it’s turning my corneas to fire,
but I’ll simply wait to see
if it’ll make my irises turn grey.

I wish haircuts were plastic surgeries,
so my former self could be
swept away with the tiny piles
of scraps upon the floor.

Maybe I’ll go blonde.

(Dec., 2011)