blue

it was about midday.

the branches were low.

a lawn mower

hovered

above the sound of the birds

lined against the silence

of the sky.

the blue

was bleeding.

in

and out.

© Hudson Biko

 

haunted

matheus-ferrero-213635-unsplash.jpg

often

growing up

after a fall

i was told

to let the wounds

be.

that the best

way for their

healing

was their solitude.

that scars could come

but most would

go.

and i would be better.

 

it is a weird thing.

for i am all grown now.

and i

try

and try

and try

let the wounds be.

and it just doesn’t seem to work anymore

 

© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Matheus Ferrero

cold

jesus-rocha-684432-unsplash.jpg

there is a rise

to the shadows.

a consistency

to the chasing.

a repetition

to the tension.

a coldness

to the blankets.

a darkness that stays.

 

© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Jesús Rocha

Frustrations

Pieced By HB

averie-woodard-123975.jpg

Fable legs give way to loud voices

that echo across walls

cracking underneath

their shortfalls

at thirty to midnight

As thirsty

lungs

inflate

in bated

breath

Drowning

in

withheld words,

that

somehow,

strangle us

and

throw us,

across internal walls

made of frustration

and desperation

In a cracking room

that’s somewhat

falling apart

because you

couldn’t hold yourself

t o g e t h e r

you only

tethered

on cracks

you created

Because you let your fable legs

f

a

l

l

When they needed you most

And i still held you.

© Hudson Biko

Photograph: Averie Woodard

View original post

stay

ryan-christodoulou-544702-unsplash.jpg

sometimes.

the magnitude of memory

outweighs

the magnitude of belief.

and we stay.

 

© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Ryan Christodoulou