Art is supposed to be beautiful
My mind is far from that
Memories and dreams mix together
It was far too much to look at

Blades and apologies
Water bottles and gum
Anything to pretend
Anything to be numb

Creating a person
Made out of emptiness
Morphing myself into a human
Because God knows I wasn’t one

Blonde bits of hair
Tears of despair
Long letters with kisses
Flowers for your stitches

I never forgot the look on your face
When I told you what I’d done
Regret and disappointment
Fear and uncertainty
I hate for you to see me
Your face painted lovingly

I’m more than a mess
More than a dumspterfire
But I’ve been broken every now and then
And through the darkness
I’ll find a way to be pure once again

Pictures of her hang quietly on my wall
Carelessly tracing her fingertips along my jaw
Gift wrapped chocolate
Secret handwritten letters tucked in my pocket
Unspoken words
Never to be heard

This feeling of belonging
Unfamilar, but sweet
It enveloped my soul
Making me feel oh so complete

This feeling, so fleeting
So bitter and painful
All I wanted was something real
But I always end up with with someone hateful

In the end, I’m glad you left
We weren’t meant to be
But I still think about you, sometimes
As my own bittersweet memory
You never really loved me

Apologies,
Just words,
Words anyone could say.
Did you really mean it?
You say you did,
but why did you do it again?

Please don't say sorry,
While pretending to feel regret.
Thinking after just one word,
Everything will be fine,
That three simple words,
Will change how I see you now.

But I can't.

How are words supposed to erase
The pain, tears, and scars,
already made?

I used to think blue eyes were pretty,
his were not.
his were not cornflower, sapphire, baby, indigo, azure,
or cloudy sky blue.
His were midnight where the light pollution from the city blocks the stars.
Iceberg, squall, hypothermia, eventual death

I want to break the cycle of abuse
that I was subjected to
I don't want to be feared
I don't want to be known
by my footsteps
I don't want to scream at the slightest mishap
I don't want to beat people
or push them down
or place their worth on grades
I want to be loving and kind
I want to be loved
and be a safe place to talk
I want to give comfort instead of pain
I want to put value on effort
not a letter grade
kids might not be for me
but if they are
in the future
I don't want to continue the
cycle of abuse
I will break the cycle
when/if the time comes

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                 Blueberries Ripening in Love

A blueberry bush
Clusters of little blue orbs
Maybe tomorrow?

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                   “I am Going to Call for a Major Investigation…”

                             -Our Red Queen on Truth [sic] Social


In Wonderland a new oppressive conjuration -  
His name is Major Investigation
Sent at our screaming queen’s instigation
To drag us all down to her police station

Beginning with Kamala, Oprah, and Bono
For somewhat disapproving of him – oh, no!
The Major will punish their laissez-majesto -
In the name of freedom their heads must go!

(But of course the irony in all this biz
Is that their heads are even larger than his)