time was unafraid;
where life was small,
and therefore somehow
true, and joy
required no interest
to be paid.
all triumphs
glittering and hollow,
I’d cast aside without
a second thought
to follow, to buy one hour
where we were less apart,
and owned the future
by mistake of heart.

the room remains;
we do not understand
when people
cannot stay within.
I name them still,
those ghosts I used to know,
but none return,
nor answer when I go.
I wish, in vain,
as poets often do,
to sit again where

but years, gone by
those gamblers
with a loaded hand,
have dealt their cards
and vanished with a grin.
each friend took leave
for some uncharted land,
some crowned with loss,
some gilded by their win.

choice felt indulgent,
something we’d grow in,
not something
bound to fracture
or to maim.
we walked as one,
convinced the odds
were thin that fate
would learn our faces,
learn our name;
a million chances
sworn to lean our way,
and all of them intact
until that day.

with hunger sharp
and blood like heated stone,
we mocked the cold,
the dark, the bolted door;
believing joy, once seated,
would not rise,
nor youth betray us
with its practiced lies.
right stood as right,
wrong was plain as sin;
The road ran straight,
and splitting
never came.

and somewhere / yes there / the moon
folded itself around her : shadow
while coins of sunlight
slipped through / bloomed

the cracks of the city
who would gather them?

no one / only the quiet / knowing
that some treasures : think ruins
are meant
to vanish

Accurate.

A white. christian. nationalist.

…racism for people too dumb to even be creative about their hate.